Also Known As
by thimbles
Summary: I let a cute boy call me someone else's name for almost a year. Started as flashes for Round 9 of The Twilight 25 and got out of hand. Maybe it will be like that collection of old photographs in a shoebox under your bed.
1. Ancient

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Ancient  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 493<p>

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><p>"Hey, Jasmine."<p>

When someone calls a name that's not yours, you still tend to look, right? It's just instinct; someone calls out, and even if it's not your name, you'll probably look over your shoulder anyway.

This is especially true if a) you know almost everyone at the party and there are definitely no Jasmines, and b) they guy calling for Jasmine is this cute guy who's new in town.

So this guy, Edward—he's Alec's cousin, apparently—with his lanky limbs and sunburnt nose, is calling out "Jasmine" and, weirdly, looking right at me.

I tilt my head towards Victoria, and I try to speak without looking like I am so the words come out sort of smashed together. "Is he calling me Jasmine?"

"Uh, yeah." She tugs on one of her curls and it bounces like a spring. "Seems like it."

Well, that's awkward.

"Go with it," she says. "I dare you."

He's in front of me now. Smiling. His eyes are mostly green, but a little bit brown in the middle, and his front left tooth slightly overlaps the right one. Like they had a fight in his mouth over the best seats and there wasn't quite enough room for the left one but it wasn't going to budge. The same way Vic and I fight the boys over the backseat of the bus and even if it's forty degrees in the shade, I'll sit half on her lap the whole way home rather than have to sit somewhere else by myself.

"You're sunburnt," I tell him, because I'm a brilliant conversationalist. I don't mean to take up Victoria's dare. But he's so close and he's looking at me and he's _smiling at me_.

And he is also really, really red. Like cooked lobster red. Tomato red. Fire engine red. And other things that are very red.

So now it's too late. I've missed the chance to say, "Actually, it's Bella." I'm going to have to answer to Jasmine whenever I see this guy. Which, whatever. He's going to the local public school and I'm going to PLC now, so it's not like we're going to be sitting next to each other in Ancient History. Or Chemistry. Or the other subjects I signed up for this year but can't remember right now because this really cute boy who called me Jasmine is_ still_ smiling at me.

He rubs his nose and then winces, because like I said, sunburnt. "Yeah." He looks at his feet. He's wearing black Havis, like pretty much everyone else in the room. Except me. Mine are green.

From the corner of my eye I see Vic smirking at me, and I decide I want Edward to myself for a while.

"Hey," I say, "you wanna go outside?" And then, because I'm hilarious, I tap my nose. "Sun's set by now."

He shakes his head, but he follows me outside. Where he smiles at me some more.

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><p><em>AN: IDK, maybe I left my run on this too late this year. We'll see. Thanks for reading. Shell x_


	2. Animalistic

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Animalistic  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 493<p>

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><p>My parents decided I just <em>had<em> to go to the stupid, snobby, girls' school for Years 11 and 12, so this year, getting to and from school is an absolute mission. It seriously takes me over an hour each way. I take a bus, then a train, then another bus to get to school, and the same in reverse to get home. Well, Vic and I only catch the second bus on the afternoons we have hockey practice—our kit bags are too freaking heavy to carry the ten minutes it takes us to walk home from the station.

But today is Monday, and there's no practice, so we're walking. Conveniently, we have to go past Jin-Kyong Gelato on our way home. Their gianduja is amazing, and we're both happily slurping at our double scoop cones when we hear him, shouting over the noise of four lanes of peak-hour traffic.

"Oi, Jasmine!"

Victoria dissolves into giggles beside me and I consider taking her out with my backpack as I turn to face that ridiculous, cute boy.

"How long are you going to let him keep calling you that?"

I shrug, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as we wait for Edward to catch up with us. "As long as it takes."

"Nice hat." Edward steals it and tries to jam it on his head. It's too small, so it balances on top his hair like a straw U.F.O. "Your uniform is like… what's that French chick's name? Madeline?"

Vic and I roll our eyes. He's right. Our summer uniform is a royal blue dress with a heavy white collar, and paired with the straw dress hat, we really do look like little Madelines. Like I said, stupid, snobby, girls' school.

"I'm Edward," he says. His eyes narrow as he looks at Victoria. "I've forgotten your name."

She supplies it, then snickers. "You're not very good with names, are you?"

I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

Edward is unfazed. "Nup. I'm hopeless with 'em."

I elbow her Victoria the ribs and she gives me an innocent look before she turns back to Edward. "Shouldn't you have finished school like an hour ago?"

He grins, sticking his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. "Got a detention."

"For?"

His answer is lost under the honking of a car horn and feral shouts of "Yeaaahhh, Eddie," as we're passed by a beat-up old ute with a red P jammed under the number plate and a blue cattle dog in the tray. Edward lifts a hand in a wave, but his attention is now on the tubs of brightly-coloured gelato on the other side of the glass storefront.

He pulls his wallet from his pocket and digs through it, his forehead creased. When he swears, I pull a five-dollar note from the pocket of my dress and hand it to him.

His smile is sweeter than my ice cream.

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><p><em>P.S. From the previous chapter, Havis = Havaiana thongs. Or flip-flops, depending where in the world you live.<em>

_Thanks for reading my silliness. Shell x_


	3. Banned

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Banned  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 446<p>

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><p>In English, Dr. Greene hands out eighteen battered copies of <em>Orlando<em> and tells us to settle down. The module we're starting is "Language and Gender," and along with _Orlando_, we're supposed to study Shakespeare's _Twelfth Night_; the film, _Elizabeth_; and a handful of other texts we have to find ourselves.

I flip past all the introductory waffle and read the first sentence. Then re-read it, just to make sure I _did_ just read something about a guy beating up on a severed head. My thumb marking the page, I flip the book back over and scan the blurb. The guy can change genders? I'm equal parts intrigued and intimidated, and again I wonder if I shouldn't have just stuck to Advanced. Victoria talked me into taking this class. "You'll be fine," she'd promised. "And you can always drop it."

"All right. That's enough, Year 11."

The girlish chatter fades, and I look up at Dr. Greene. She's tiny, several centimetres shorter than me, and today her headscarf is a vibrant turquoise. She always looks so enthusiastic when she comes to class—like she can't wait to teach each lesson. I've only had her for two weeks, but I can already see why Vic was so stoked when we heard she'd be taking Extension 1. She had "the Doc" in Year 9 and reckons she's an excellent teacher.

"So," Dr. Greene says, "has anyone read any Woolf?"

Beside me, Vic nods, and so do two girls sitting in the front row. I'm still learning names, but I'm pretty sure the blonde is Jessica, the dark haired girl is Lijuan.

"Have any of you three read this?" Dr. Greene holds up her copy of _Orlando_, with its rainbow of sticky flags poking from between the pages. The girls all shake their heads.

"Okay. Now… Yes, Victoria?"

Vic's hand is in the air, and I know that look in her eyes. It's that same look of barely held back laughter she wore last period when she asked Mr. Molina how black holes were formed. "Was this book banned, Doc?"

"Victoria." Dr. Greene's stern voice doesn't match her proud smile. "Would I _ever_ set you a text that hadn't been banned by someone, at some point?"

Most of the girls laugh quietly, but Vic looks a little disappointed when Dr. Greene tells us to open up to page one. Mr. Molina had taken Vic's bait, talking about black holes and wormholes and antimatter for so long that we hadn't even opened our Physics textbooks before the bell rang.

"Isabella," Dr. Greene says, "would you start reading, please?"

I nod and try to swallow my nerves. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

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><p><em>Thanks for reading. You guys are fab. Shell x<em>


	4. Complications

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Complications  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 474<p>

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><p>"Look up, Bella. Keep checking where the other players are."<p>

I obey, glancing at where Lauren is waiting by the orange witches hat. I dribble the ball back across the field, keeping my stick in contact with the ball. I lift my head every few paces, keeping her in my sights. When I reach the yellow marker, I pass the ball across the grass. Lauren traps it easily and takes off in the direction I just came.

"Better." Ms. Banner claps my shoulder. "Faster, Lauren."

Vic tosses me my water bottle and I pant out my thanks. I swallow a mouthful before I hurry back into line. Banner doesn't seem to care that it's thirty-five freaking degrees Celsius; she's had us running dribbling and passing drills for almost an hour.

Sweat is dripping from my forehead and rolling down my spine and when Banner finally blows her whistle.

"Good job, ladies." She has to yell over the groans of relief. "Pack it up. I'll see you Thursday."

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><p>"Vic, do you have any B.O. basher? I stink."<p>

I smell exactly like I've been running around in the sun with a hockey stick for an hour—and I've forgotten to pack my deodorant.

"Yeah, but it's roll on."

I wrinkle my nose. I smell pretty ripe, but I'm not desperate enough to rub Victoria's underarm germs all over myself. Sharing spray deodorant is one thing, but roll on? Hell no.

I pull my dress over my head and turn around so Victoria can zip me up. We're not allowed to go home in our P.E. uniforms; we have to change back into our dress uniform to leave the school grounds.

"Catch, Swan."

A can of Rexona lands in my hands and Lauren is my favourite person on the face of the earth. I tell her so and she rolls her eyes. Of course, with my zip done up now, I have to lift my dress up so high I flash everyone my undies in order to get the can positioned right. Still, I sigh with relief when I feel the icy sting of antiperspirant in my armpit.

* * *

><p>"Oh, look." Vic smirks as she nudges my shoulder. "Aladdin."<p>

"Aladdin?"

She points across the street, where Edward is leaning against the traffic lights, a skateboard under his arm. He's talking with two other guys who wear the same school uniform in the same way: shirt untucked, caps on backwards, scuffed-up skate shoes.

"Aladdin. It fits, right? If you're Jasmine and he likes you. And, you know, he's a bit of a street rat."

I frown, even as my tummy flip-flops. _Street rat?_ Seems kind of harsh.

"He doesn't like me," I say. "At least he doesn't _like_ like me."

She shrugs, standing up as our bus pulls into the stop. "Whatever you reckon… _Princess Jasmine_."

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><p><em>Thanks for reading, lovelies. Shell x<em>


	5. Covert

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Covert  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 485, excluding quotes.<p>

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><p>My parents weren't bullshitting me when they said Year 11 was going to be hard work. It feels like I've barely figured out my timetable before Term 1 is over and it's Easter—and I've got five assessment tasks to do.<p>

My English essay is half-written when I hear my mum laughing in the kitchen. It's not her usual laugh; it's this silly, girly giggle she uses with my friends, which is about as cute as fingertips on a balloon. Victoria must be here already.

I've written two more paragraphs when Vic barges into my bedroom. The page of equations I need to remember for Physics falls off the back of the door. Vic steps on it on her way to my bed.

She flicks through _Macbeth_. "You using this for your essay?"

"Yeah."

"_Unsex me here,_  
><em>And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full<em>  
><em>Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood<em>;  
>blah-blah, blah-blah."<p>

I throw my pen at her. "You didn't?"

She pulls her hair over her shoulder. "Pfft. Too obvious."

I close my eyes, and I know I'm doing that super attractive nostril-flaring thing I do when I'm stressed.

"Hey."

I open my eyes and she gives me a smile that says she's sorry.

"I was kidding. It's a good one. I was being a smart arse because I wish I'd thought to use it."

Fingers to my temples, I nod. "Okay."

"Yeah…. You need to take a break."

I check the time—I've been writing for four hours. I mark a few pages and stand up. "What do you wanna do?"

"Reckon your mum'd take us to the beach?"

"Yeah, probably." With Vic here, she'll be totally down for it.

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><p>It's almost April, but it's like the water has trapped the summer sunshine. It's my favourite time of year: the few weeks the ocean is warmer than the air. Vic and I hang out past the breakers; floating on our backs, treading water, watching the wetsuited surfers squabble over waves like seagulls after a chip.<p>

I almost die of fright when a cold hand closes around my ankle. Lucky I'm not a screamer—it's embarrassing enough that I've probably gone white as Edward surfaces in front of me.

"Jasmine!"

"You're the worst," I tell him. "I could've died. Had a heart attack and drowned."

He grins. Brand new freckles dot his nose and cheeks, and the water runs in ribbons down his face. "Nah. I heard you're like the best swimmer ever."

"Alec's an arsehole." I wipe the hair sticking to my cheeks away. "When I was nine, I got caught in a rip and nearly drowned. He thinks it's funny to tease me."

Edward's eyes go really wide. "Shit. I didn't– I am so sorry."

It's my turn to grin. "Just kidding."

He looks stunned. "You… So can you swim good or not?"

"Better than you." I take off towards the shore, smiling into the waves. I'm already wrapped in my towel when he stumbles out of the surf, breathing hard.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading. You guys are the best. Shell x<em>


	6. Crush

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Crush  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 494<p>

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><p><em>A few people have asked me where this is set. We're in Sydney, Australia. The schools are fictitious, but I have been checking the NSW Stage 6 Syllabuses to ensure the things Bella studies are realistic. <em>

* * *

><p>Mum nudges my shoulder and mutes the telly. At least she waited for the ad break.<p>

"A little birdy told me there's a boy in the picture."

I am going to kill Victoria, and it will be the slowest, most painful death in the history of slow and painful deaths.

"So." Mum's eyebrows arch. "Spill the beans. What's he like? Does he go to Ted's?"

Ted's is our "brother" school.

I uncross my legs and pull a cushion into my lap. "If she was talking about Edward, then no. He's at Northern."

The change in my mother would be hilarious if it weren't so ridiculous. She actually recoils. The lines around her mouth and eyes deepen. "Victoria was just winding me up, was she?"

I hesitate. I definitely do _not_ want to tell Mum about my stupid crush on that stupid boy, and she's just let me off the hook. But there's another part of me, the part that can't stand the way she suddenly thinks boys who go to public schools are somehow "beneath me," that wants to tell her that yes, I do like this boy. A lot. Even if he doesn't even know my name.

"Yeah." I take the easy way out. "You know Vic. She's a galah."

"Of course." Mum forces a chuckle. "So, any cute Ted's boys caught your eye?"

Mum's such a hypocrite. It's not like I didn't go Northern until Year 10, and it's not like she and Dad didn't go there back in the day. She didn't carry on like this before, but since she started hanging out with some of the mums from my school, "doing coffee" and going to that over-priced gym with them, she's changed.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that all the mums at school are snobs, not at all. Heaps of them are really great. My mother's just fallen in with the wrong crowd… _There's something wrong with this picture, isn't there?_

"Some of the Ted's boys are heaps nice, Mum. We're good mates."

I reach for the remote, but she holds it out of reach. "Well, do you think…" There's something in her voice that makes me look her in the eye.

"Do you think… I mean, maybe the hockey and the swimming… You're getting quite broad-shouldered. Perhaps it's time to just concentrate on your studies."

I want to kick a wall. I want to grab all the stupid Royal Doulton ladies curtseying on the shelf above the television and throw them through the window. I want to swear, ask her if she's fucking serious. I want to remind her of all the times she told me any boy worth my time would be more interested in my brain than my body.

"I like the exercise. Helps me concentrate better." I'm proud of how steady my voice is. "Excuse me, Mum. I've got homework to do."

I wait until my bedroom door is closed to let the tears fall.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading and reviewing. I appreciate it heaps. Love, Shell x<em>


	7. Desecrate

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Desecrate  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 496<p>

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><p>Mrs. Hong's bakery is about ten degrees hotter than the street outside when Victoria and I walk through the plastic strips that curtain the door. It smells amazing though, like fresh bread and cinnamon and sticky-sweet icing.<p>

"Jasmine!" That ridiculous boy is here and he's grinning and he looks so genuinely stoked to see me. It feels… nice. Really nice.

Victoria smirks and steps up to the counter to order her dad's gluten-free bread, leaving me with the stupid boy and his stupid smile.

"How's things?"

I twist my hands together and try not to blush. "Okay. You?"

"Not too shabby. Surf's been shit for the last couple days but." He pulls a lamington from its paper bag and holds it towards me. "Want some?"

I shake my head. "No, thanks."

He shrugs and takes a bite, demolishing half the slice.

"You don't eat cake?" At least, I think that's what he says. It's hard to tell with his mouth full of sponge cake and coconut.

A piece of shredded coconut lands on my top. I wrinkle my nose and flick it onto the floor. "I love cake," I say. "Just not lamingtons."

Thankfully, he clears his mouth before he speaks again. "That's sacrilegious. You know you could be kicked out of the country? The lamington is a national icon."

"So I'm told." I tuck my hair behind my ear, keeping my elbow close to my ribs. It's really hot in here and I'm sure I'm sweating. "I just don't like coconut."

"Next you'll be telling me you don't like Vegemite."

I cringe. Edward's eyes widen with pretend horror. "Get out!"

"I know."

"You know what?" Victoria appears beside me, a plastic bag in one hand and her change in the other.

"She doesn't like lamingtons. Or Vegemite."

"Oh, I know," Vic says. "_Jasmine's_ a disgrace. An utter disgrace."

I roll my eyes at the both of them.

"You know," Victoria says, as we duck back outside, the plastic curtain snapping at our ankles, "I reckon we should start calling you Aladdin."

I can _not_ believe she said that. I want to disappear through a crack in the pavement.

Edward, however, doesn't miss a beat. "Guess that makes you Rajah."

Victoria laughs and ruffles a hand through her curls. "I do have the hair for it." She makes a claw and a "rawr" noise.

"I'm going this way." Edward jerks a thumb over his shoulder. The opposite direction to the one we're going.

He takes a few backwards steps then stops. "Hey. You guys should come to Alec's thing on Saturday arvo."

"We've got hockey," I say. Beside me, Vic groans.

Edward tilts his head. "So come after."

"Yeah." I rub my thumb across my palm. It's slippery with sweat. "Okay."

"Sweet." Edward shoves the rest of his lamington into his mouth, waves, and heads off down the street.

"Sooo…"

"Shut up," I tell her.

Victoria lifts a hand, palm out. "Not saying a thing."

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><p><em>A lamington is a square of sponge cake rolled in melted chocolate and then in desiccated coconut.<em>

_The way you guys have taken to these characters is just brilliant. Thank you all so much! Shell x_


	8. Disheveled

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Disheveled  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 498<p>

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><p>"Do my shoulders look too broad?" I run a critical eye over the purple maxidress I'm thinking of wearing to Alec's tomorrow.<p>

Victoria catches my gaze in the mirror. "Say what?"

I put my hands to my shoulders, trying to measure their width. They're definitely a few centimetres wider than Victoria's, and a bit squarer, too. Hers are more sloping.

"My shoulders. Do you reckon I'd look better in a dress with short sleeves?"

Victoria kicks off her skirt and pulls on a pair of shorts. She sits on her bed and pats the space beside her.

"What's going on, Swan? Why are you talking this kind of shit?"

I shrug, and the gesture makes me even more conscious of my shoulders. They feel enormous suddenly, like I might have to turn sideways to fit through doors or something. "Just been thinking."

"Well, you need to stop." Victoria picks up a magazine from her bedside table. "I read once that if Barbie was real, she'd have to carry her liver in her handbag."

"Vic, I'm not asking you if I'm fat. Just if my shoulders are, I dunno… mannish."

She scrunches up her nose. "Mannish? Bella, fuck that." She opens the magazine. It's one of the glossy ones aimed at girls our age, full of stick-thin, blonde girls and articles like, "Ten Ways to Know He's Really Into You," and "Dress to Flatter Your Flaws."

"Who gets to decide what's mannish?" Victoria's gaze is on the colourful pages as she flips through them. "Who says broad shoulders can't be feminine? That's bullshit."

We spent ages discussing the social constructs of gender last term, and the way language can reinforce or challenge those ideals. I know what Vic's getting at. It's just… Why is it so easy to feel crappy about myself? I want to be strong and self-confident, but one word from Mum has me seeing all these things I don't like when I look in the mirror.

Vic stabs a finger at one of the models. "Like, I dunno, five percent of the population look like this. And hey, that's great for them. The other ninety-five percent of us? We don't. And that's okay. No. It's fucking fantastic."

"I s'pose."

"Don't buy the lies." She imitates Dr. Greene's measured speech. "Don't let the patriarchy oppress you, young lady. Don't let those fuckers tell you who you should be."

I giggle. I can totally imagine Dr. Greene using the word "fuckers" when she's not in front of a class of schoolgirls.

"But in your case, it's the matriarchy, I'm guessing?" She tosses the magazine aside and gives me a searching look.

"Yeah." I put my head in hands and weave my fingers into my hair. "She's changed. She's always been so supportive, you know? And now…"

Vic picks up a hairbrush and motions for me to turn around. Carefully, she starts working out my tangles. "Sucks, girl." She snickers. "Maybe it's just a phase. She'll grow out of it."

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><p><em>You lot are the best. Seriously. Shell x <em>


	9. Exposed

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Exposed  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 495<p>

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><p>Katie Marshall is that girl you really wish was a bitch, because you kind of want the excuse to hate her. She's the Captain of the RGGS hockey team, and word has it she'll be playing for the Hockeyroos within the next few years. She's already in the Under 19's squad. She's smart, will probably be Dux of her year, and she's gorgeous. She's really graceful, too—even her tackles look beautifully choreographed.<p>

And the thing is, however bad for everyone else's self-esteem she might be, she's really not a bitch. She's genuinely nice. She's a good loser and an even better winner.

When we go down to RGGS 4-3, she's all smiles as she shakes hands with every player on our team, congratulating us all on a good game.

"Great job, Bella" she tells me. She touches my elbow as we shake hands. "Your drag-flick is off the richter."

I laugh and I don't mind admitting it was a fluke, a pass I lost control of that ended up in the back of the net.

"Eh, don't be so modest," Katie says, her teeth flashing white against her dark skin. "Own that shit, girl."

"Thanks. And congratulations on the win."

"Cheers."

Katie leads her team into a huddle; our team heads back to the changerooms.

"Great game, girls!" Ms. Banner is pretty ecstatic for a coach whose team lost in the last three minutes of play. But as she points out, only two teams managed to score against RGGS in last year's comp. "I'm so proud of you all!"

* * *

><p>When Victoria and I climb into the back of her dads' Mercedes, Peter is behind the wheel and Kylie Minogue is blaring from the stereo.<p>

"You're such a cliché," Vic says. She leans forward to kiss her fathers' cheeks. "Can we turn this off?"

Garrett grins over his shoulder. "I told him you'd get pissy about it." His gaze slides to me. "How are you, Bella, darl? That was a pretty epic goal."

"It was a fluke," I tell him, which earns me Victoria's elbow to my ribs. "But thanks."

Peter catches my eye in the rearview mirror and grins. "No one could tell."

"You could."

He shrugs. Peter played hockey for N.S.W. when he was at uni, so if anyone knows I got lucky today, it's him. "You're not the first person to score a brilliant goal by accident."

"I guess."

"Enough hockey talk," Garrett says. "What are you two up to this afternoon?"

"We're going to this thing at Alec's later," Victoria tells him. "Can you give us a lift?"

"Sure," Peter says.

"Curfew is midnight," Garrett adds. He shakes his head at Victoria's groan. "Don't want to hear it, Vic."

"We're sixteen." She's pouting, her bottom lip stuck out like she's four years old. I'm not sure it helps her case.

"Exactly," Peter says. "You're _only_ sixteen. I pick you up at twelve or you don't go. It's your choice."

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><p><em>Ah, you guys... Thank you so much for the kind reviews. I appreciate them all so much! Thank you, too, to the FicSisters for featuring this at the International House of Fanfic. Shell x<em>


	10. Fabricate

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Fabricate  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 499<p>

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><p>"You know what you should do? With your mum?"<p>

I've had enough run-ins with Victoria's GHD to know not to move my head while she's straightening my hair. She secures another section of my hair between the heated plates and slides them down. I feel the tug in my scalp.

"Start swimming every morning?"

"Pfft, no. Just start wearing shoulder pads." Her reflection grins at me. "Seriously. I'd play it up. Accentuate the fuck out of them."

I love Victoria, and I love that she's got my back, but there is no way I'm going to wear shoulder pads. Ever. Even for an Eighties dress-up party. "Yeah, no. I think I'll pass."

She shrugs one shoulder and keeps working on taming the frizz that is my just-washed hair. She pokes her tongue out and bites down on it with every slide of the iron through my hair.

It's kind of a funny story, with Vic's GHD. She saved up for ages, putting away all her birthday and Christmas money until she could afford it. And then, after all that, she used it once and absolutely hated the result. She said it was too weird, looking in the mirror and not seeing the riotous curls she's used to. "I looked like a pinhead," she told me. I doubt she did, but anyway, the only time she uses it now is when does my hair.

"Speaking of my mum…" I shoot her a text, telling her we lost today, and reminding her I'm going to Alec's then sleeping at Victoria's. She replies quickly, making no comment on the hockey but asking me to say hi to Maggie (Alec's mum). I don't reply, don't tell her that Maggie and Liam are up in the Blue Mountains for the weekend.

Victoria rubs some serum stuff through my hair and then squeezes my shoulders like she's giving me a massage. "All done."

* * *

><p>In the kitchen, Garrett leans against the fridge, frowning, while Peter give us the spiel. The "stick together and we'd really rather you didn't drink but if you're going to drink please don't drink something mixed by someone else in fact just don't drink anything unless it's handed to you in an unopened bottle and no matter what happens you can call us and we'll come get you straight away" spiel they've been giving us before every party since we were in Year 9.<p>

Peter tosses Garrett the car keys and for some reason the metallic jangle has my insides quivering. Parties can make me kind of nervous, but this… this is something new.

I rub my sweaty palms on my dress as we follow Garrett out to the garage. Vic nudges me, asking me with her eyebrows if I'm okay. I nod, feeling like the butterflies invading my tummy might come rushing out of my mouth if I try to speak.

"All right." Garrett always insists on opening the car door for me, and I always blush. "Buckle up, girls."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks so much for reading, and for the lovely reviews! Shell x<em>


	11. Forbidden

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Forbidden  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 492<p>

* * *

><p>Autumn has fallen victim to peer-pressure lately, copying the pattern of summer's days and then imitating winter by night. The sun is just sinking below the treeline, it's warmth already fled, when Victoria and I arrive at Alec's. I trail after Vic as she heads through the house and out into the backyard. With her vivid hair, she's like a flame moving through a sea of moths, the way everyone moves towards her to hug her or bump fists.<p>

I am absolutely not looking for Edward as I do a lap of the yard, saying hi and seeing who's here. And I am absolutely not disappointed when he doesn't materialise in front of me in that way he does. I pull the sleeves of my cardigan over my hands and hug my arms to my chest.

"Drink?" Alec holds up a couple of Vodka Cruisers and a can of Solo.

I choose the Solo and he shakes his head, his blond hair flopping over one eye. "Not allowed to drink?"

"I don't drink that crap." I point at the brightly coloured alcopops. "Remember I spewed everywhere at Sam's party? I feel sick just looking at them."

Alec waves the bottles in my face, grinning like an idiot. I shove him away and pop open the can of soft drink. He takes the hint, wandering over to the group of Northern girls who have just arrived, and I sink into a plastic chair by the pool.

Victoria, Lauren, and a few other girls join me, and I forget I'm disappointed Edward isn't here as we trade stories and gossip. Night descends and the music goes up a notch. A few of the guys are getting pretty amped up, I can hear them yelling over the music and I know it won't be long before someone ends up in the pool.

Victoria is talking to a girl from Northern—Siobhan, maybe—when I stand up, the pressure in my bladder too uncomfortable to ignore any longer. She grabs my hand and I lean down to tell her I'll be right back.

He finds me as I'm leaving the bathroom, drying my hands on the skirt of my dress. "Where've you been hiding, Jasmine?"

The butterflies are back in force. Edward leans against the wall to my left, a tinny of VB in his hand.

"I've been around." I glance at the can in his hand, like it will help me gauge how much he's had to drink. His cheeks are flushed, but his gaze is steady as he looks down at me.

"Did you win at hockey?"

I'm surprised he remembered. "Nope. Lost by one."

"Bummer."

"Yep."

We look at each other for a moment and he doesn't say anything and neither do I. I turn away, feeling stupid and disappointed. The butterflies trail behind me as I move to rejoin my friends outside.

"Hey." Edward catches me as I reach the verandah. "Wait up."

* * *

><p><em>Solo = lemon-flavoured soda; VB = beer; alcopops = premixed alcoholic drinks marketed to girls. brightly coloured, sugary sweet.<em>

_Thanks so much for reading. Shell x_


	12. Forgotten

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Forgotten  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 497<p>

* * *

><p>"Jasmine." His touch on my upper arm is light, asking me to wait but not demanding that I do.<p>

I don't turn to face him until I've got my smile under control.

He points at a bench seat shoved up against the balcony rail. "Sit with me?"

There aren't many people on the verandah, just a couple of guys sharing a joint up the other end, and two girls leaning against the railing, deep in conversation. Most people have congregated near the pool where four guys are in the middle of a chicken fight. They're really going at it, splashing and yelling—it makes me shiver just watching them.

"I know, hey?" Edward says. "Must be bloody freezing."

We turn our backs on the pool and Edward gives the bench a good shake before he indicates it's safe to sit.

"Had a bad experience?"

He chuckles in a way that makes me think he has, but doesn't elaborate.

For a few moments, neither of us speak. I look at the timber beneath my feet, up at the fairy lights lining the eaves of the roof, anywhere but at Edward. I finger the fabric of my dress as the silence stretches on and on—until the tension gets too much for me and the first thing that comes to my mind slips out of my mouth.

"You know my name's not actually Jasmine, right?"

Edward's quiet for so long I wonder if he's ignoring me. When I turn to look at him though, he's scratching the back of his neck and trying to hide a smile.

"Uh, yeah. I know."

Again, he doesn't say anything more, and it occurs to me that he might not have been told what my name _is_. Or he's forgotten it.

"It's Isabella," I tell him. "But I prefer Bella."

He nods again. "I know."

"Okay." I swing my legs as I search for something more interesting to talk about than what subjects he's taking at school.

Edward lifts the can of VB and takes a small sip. When he sets it on the bench between us, the thunk it makes tells me it's mostly full.

"You don't like beer, huh?"

He huffs a tiny laugh through his nose. "I hate it."

"Then why…?"

He copies my posture, holding onto the edge of the seat. His hand is so close to mine. Just a few millimetres and our pinkies would touch.

"It's like… if you don't drink beer you're a pussy, you know? It's just easier to grab a can and carry it around all night."

Maybe it's the vulnerability in his voice, or maybe it's because I understand the weight of people's expectations, or maybe it's just an accident, but that gap between our pinkies is gone and my hand is in his and our fingers are twined together. And it's probably a good thing he's holding on to me, because without that tether, there's a very good chance I'd float away about now.

* * *

><p><em>It's May. They met in January. I know that's not "almost a year." Trust me?<br>Thanks for the love, you guys. Shell x_


	13. Hunger

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Hunger  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 486<p>

* * *

><p>For some reason, conversation becomes easy once Edward's hand is wrapped around mine. The weird awkwardness, the I-don't-know-what-to-say-next feeling falls away and I lose track of time as we talk about, well, everything, really. School and music and movies and our friends and the way you can't see the stars as well here, so close to the city, as you can out in the bush where Edward's family is from. He asks what I want to do when I finish the HSC and when I tell him I have no idea he says he's glad he's not the only one.<p>

A few people walk past us on their way inside and we get a couple of raised eyebrows but I don't care and it seems Edward doesn't either. When a couple of his mates pull up chairs and we're suddenly part of their circle, he makes no move to untangle his fingers from mine and that feels like it matters. In fact, it's only when I start to shiver that he drops my hand, but before I can miss the contact, he slips his arm around my shoulders and moves a little closer, not even pausing in the story he's telling Emmett and Paul about the time he and Alec went yabbying in the dam on their grandparents' property and Alec had to get four stitches in his finger after this monster yabby grabbed hold of it and wouldn't let go.

Victoria stops on her way inside, leaning down to tell me it's half past eleven. She squeezes my shoulder and gives me a look that tells me I'll be getting grilled later tonight.

"Do you have to go soon?" Edward asks me, watching Victoria walk away.

I nod. "Yeah. Her dad's picking us up at midnight."

"Okay." Edward surprises me by standing up and grabbing my hand. His mates ask where we're going but he the only answer he gives them in his middle finger when they start jeering and making kissing noises.

He leads me down into the backyard and even though the wind is snatching at the hem of my dress and biting at my ankles, my face feels hot. The pool's empty now, but for an inflatable banana being carried in slow circles as it floats face down, and hardly anyone is around. They must've all gone inside to keep warm.

Edward pulls me into a shadowy corner near the barbeque and I swear, those butterflies are going to choke me.

He hands me his phone. "Put your number in?"

I comply and he saves it under _Jasmine_, which makes me giggle. I poke his side. "Did you bring me down here just to get my number?"

"No," he says. Even in the darkness I can see the glint in his eyes. His hands find my waist and he pulls me close. "I brought you down here so I could kiss you."


	14. Innocence

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Innocence  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 491<p>

* * *

><p>On Monday morning, I discover there's a distinct advantage to hooking up with someone you don't go to school with. Not that I wouldn't like to be at school with Edward. What I mean is, hardly any of the girls at my school even know who Edward is, and the few who do were at Alec's on Saturday, so they already know what happened.<p>

So when I walk into my roll call classroom, there are no whispers, no clearing throats, no furtive glances. It's nothing like it was last year at Northern, the morning after Jake and I started going out.

_Ugh. _But even thinking about Jake isn't enough to spoil my good mood this morning.

My lab partner, Charlotte, messes up the experiment we're doing in Chemistry—an innocent enough mistake on her part, she misread the quantity of sodium hydroxide required and didn't add enough—and my mood does sour a little when Mrs. Gerandy makes us stay back at lunch time to redo it. But only until I go to the bathroom for a sneaky phone-check and see that Edward has texted me, telling me he owes me for a gelato and that he wants to square it up this arvo.

The rest of the day drags on and on now that I have something I'm looking forward to.

It's funny the way time does that, isn't it?

Sometimes we get caught up, like in these discussions we're having in English as we study _The Shipping News_ and _Lost in Translation_, and it seems like we've barely scratched the surface before the bell's ringing and we're scrambling to pack up our books and make sure we've written our homework in our diaries.

And then at other times, like in last period Ancient History as I'm taking notes on the unification of China under Qin Shi Huangdi in 221 BC, it seems like the clock above the whiteboard has lead weights tied to its hands.

Luckily for me, Victoria is paying attention to the stuff we're copying from the whiteboard and is also a faster writer than I am, because she nudges me at one point to show me where, halfway through the third paragraph, Mr. Richards has written, "Are you actually reading what you're writing?"

I wasn't. Ancient chinese history is the last thing on my mind, because I'm mostly remembering how soft Edward's lips were and the way his arms felt wrapped around me, pulling me closer, closer, closer, and how my stomach did that swoopy thing when I felt his tongue against mine. And I'm also hoping that he'll kiss me again this afternoon, although I don't exactly know how or where that could happen because making out at the bus stop is not very romantic. Not that I really care about romance. No, I just want to kiss him again, but preferably without four lanes of traffic roaring past us.

Maybe I'll just invite him over.

* * *

><p><em>arvo = afternoon. (oh, and from ch. 13, a yabby is kind of a crayfish).<em>

_Thanks for reading, lovelies! Shell x_


	15. Insidious

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Insidious  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 497<p>

* * *

><p>We go to Edward's house instead.<p>

His mum is home and she feeds us white chocolate and raspberry muffins and asks me about school and my family, and then she asks me how I'm going to change the world. Not what I'm going to study at uni or what job I want to have. And she asks me with this very earnest look on her face, like she truly expects an answer—and that it'll be one worth hearing.

I draw patterns in the condensation on my glass of water, trying to think of something that's honest but doesn't make me sound like a Miss Universe contestant.

"I don't know," I finally tell her. "I think I'd need to see more of the world, and, I guess, experience more of life… before I could, you know, say what needs to change."

Mrs. Cullen beams at me, and I'm pretty sure she kicks Edward under the table, because he kind of jumps and then shakes his head at her. And I think I must've passed some kind of test because after she says, "good answer," she tells us she's got some gardening to do and disappears with a slam of the back door.

Edward finishes his drink and takes both our glasses to the sink. "So." He groans. "Sorry. It's just– There's no way I can ask you if you wanna go to my room without it sounding sleazy."

_Oh, hi there, butterflies._ "Ask me anyway."

* * *

><p>Edward walks me home and it takes twenty-five minutes when it should take fifteen because we're dawdling and every now and then he stops me to steal a kiss, except it's not really stealing when I'm happy to give them away.<p>

He pauses at our letterbox. "Want me to come in?"

I think about it. I do, because I don't want to say goodbye to him yet, but Mum's car is in the carport and I'm not sure if I'm ready to deal with… well, I have no clue how she'll react to him. _What if she's rude to him?_

I take off my hat and run my hand over my hair. My cheeks feel hot and my lips, swollen. "Do I look like I've spent the last hour kissing a cute boy?"

Edward chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets. "You think I'm cute?"

"Yep."

He grins and kicks at a pebble on the footpath. "No."

"No, what?"

The sun's setting behind him, and I'm sure my squinting is super attractive.

"No, you don't look like you've been kissing a cute boy for an hour. You look like you've been kissing your boyfriend for two."

"Isabella!" Mum has the worst timing in the world. She's on the porch, hands on her hips, frown in place. My stomach drops.

Edward takes a step back and addresses his shoes, "Gimme a ring later?"

I wait for him to look at me. "Yeah. For sure."

His smile is only half there. "Bye, Jasmine."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Shell x<em>


	16. Kingdom

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Kingdom  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 500<p>

* * *

><p>When I plop myself into the empty bus seat beside Victoria, I'm greeted with that one-eyebrow-arch she does when she's irritated.<p>

"I'm sorry," I say, referring to the fact I didn't call her last night. "Mum was being dumb. And then I had to call Edward and by the time I got off the phone to him it was late and I just… I'm sorry, okay?"

I expect her to make a "chicks before dicks" comment, but maybe she hears the wobble in my voice or notices the tears I'm trying to keep under control because the eyebrow subsides and she puts an arm across my shoulders. "What happened?"

No matter how upset I am at my mum, I still smile as I tell her Edward's my boyfriend. Officially.

"And Queen Renée doesn't approve?"

"Not even a little bit." His uniform was enough for her to identify him as a Northern kid, and that was it. She didn't want to hear a word I had to say. "She told me she was disappointed in me for making such poor choices."

Victoria squeezes me closer. "What're you gonna do?"

I sniffle. I really, really don't want to cry on the bus. "I don't know. I think Edward was heaps cut. Like, he walked me home and, Vic, he's so sweet, and then Mum's standing there being all, well, you know how she is, and so he went home thinking I was embarrassed of him or something."

She grimaces. "Did you set him straight?"

"Yeah. I mean, I told him how she can be, and that I was just hesitant about introducing him because she can be such a snob–"

"What did he say?"

"I think he got it. And he reckons she's not going to scare him off."

"That's good, right?" She tugs on my ponytail and pulls her arm away. "Although, has he seen her in those fluoro pink tights? _I_ might dump you if she keeps wearing those outside of the gym."

"You suck." She doesn't really. She's actually pretty amazing. I tell her this and she waves her hand like I'm not telling her anything she doesn't know.

We have a free period first up, so we head down to our common room after roll call. I'm working on a creative writing task Dr. Greene has set when Victoria elbows me and my pen jolts across the page. "Shit. Vic."

"Sorry." She tosses me her liquid paper. "Just introduce him."

"Huh?"

"Edward. Take him over and introduce him. Ten bucks says he has Renée wrapped around his little finger within the hour."

"And if he doesn't?"

She shrugs. "Does it matter? And anyway, when you were… I mean, last year, she's like, high school relationships are just supposed to be fun, see lots of guys and don't get serious, blah, blah, blah. So it's kind of dumb for her to start freaking out like you're gonna run off and marry the guy, you know?"

"Yeah… I s'pose."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for the love, guys. Shell x<em>


	17. Limit

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Limit  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: T  
>Word Count: 494<p>

* * *

><p>"Dr. Greene, you're a feminist, right?"<p>

Doc smiles. "Absolutely. Why do you ask?"

Jessica hesitates. "Well, why…" She shakes her head like 'don't worry about it.'

"Why do I wear the hijab if I believe in women's empowerment?"

Jessica nods, her lip between her teeth. "Is that… I mean, is that rude? To ask? I don't–"

"It's absolutely okay. Much better to ask than to make assumptions." Dr. Greene puts down her book and moves to sit on the edge of her desk. "I can only speak for myself, all right?"

Sometimes classrooms can be really quiet, but you still know no one is paying attention. We're doodling in the margins of our books, staring out the window, passing notes, whatever. That's not the case right now. Dr. Greene has everyone's attention.

"My family came to Australia from Iran when I was very small," she says. "All my memories are of life in Australia. So it's not something that was required of me, you see? By my family or the community I grew up in. Actually, my family is not particularly religious, and my mother and my sisters don't wear the hijab. So, why then, do I choose to?"

Her smile speaks of the many stories she could tell.

"Lots of people seem find it odd. Offensive, even. They say to my husband, 'doesn't it bother you?' My husband is of Anglo-Celtic ancestry, you see, and many people imagine that the hijab is something forced on Muslim women by their husbands. They can't understand that a woman might actually choose to wear it, so it must be a sign of oppression." She nods. "Sometimes, that's true."

She gives a wry smile. "Though the irony of people asking my husband about it is not lost on us."

She hops off her desk and picks up a whiteboard marker. "For me, it's more of a cultural thing, than it is religious practice. I wear it as an identification with my cultural heritage, which I'm proud of." She shrugs. "That's it."

I expect her to resume our lesson, but she seems to change her mind.

"This is pretty important stuff, girls. Whether you wear a hijab or not. Whether you remain single or get married or have a live-in partner. Whether you have children. Whether you pursue a career or stay at home with your kids. Whether you date men or other women or no one at all. Whatever."

She looks around the room—she still has our complete attention. "What is it that means you can be a feminist, that you can be an empowered woman, and do any of those things?"

A few girls shift in their chairs but no one speaks. Tentatively, I raise my hand.

"Isabella?"

"It's–" I clear my throat. "That it's your choice."

"Yes. Exactly." She taps the desk with her marker. "Because _that_ is what it means to be a feminist. You believe in women making their own choices."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! Shell x<em>


	18. Mist

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Mist  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 499<p>

* * *

><p>"Dad, can I go to the beach this arvo? After hockey, I mean?"<p>

My dad nods, barely glancing up from the _Fin. Review_. "Sure."

"Can you drive us?"

"You and Vic?"

"No." I take a deep breath, and that's enough for my dad to put down the newspaper.

He narrows his eyes. "The boy?" Obviously my mum's been in his ear. _Fantastic._

I should've just planned to take the bus. "Yeah. His name is Edward."

Dad scratches at his beard. "Edward…"

"Cullen."

It's hard to tell with the facial hair and the way Dad's rubbing his chin, but I could swear he's hiding a smile. "Dr. Cullen's boy?"

I vaguely remember Edward mentioning his dad was a G.P. "Uh, yeah."

My dad shakes his head as he returns to the paper. "Sure, Bella. No problem."

* * *

><p>It's one of those grey afternoons that remind you winter's just around the corner. The ocean and sky smudge together on the horizon, the clouds gathered overhead are full of threats. Sea spray mists the air, sticking to our hair, our skin, our clothes. It's too cold to swim, not without a steamer, anyway, but that doesn't stop us rolling up our jeans and walking in the edges of the whitewash as it plucks at the shoreline. The freshening onshore winds have kept the surfers away, and there are only a couple of sailboarders doing laps of the beach, arms pumping hard as they race across the chop.<p>

When we reach the point, I drop Edward's hand and we keep going, scrambling across the rock platform. We pause to glance into the tidal pools; in one, there's a cache of dark green starfish. Edward crouches down to take a closer look and I grab his hand before he can reach into the water.

"Don't," I tell him. "Blue ring octopus."

He snatches his hand away as if scalded. "Where?"

"I don't know. But there could be one."

The wind snatches away his laughter as I shake my finger at him. "You grew up in the bush. You probably have all your own things you've had drummed into you since you were a kid. My dad's paranoid about blue rings."

"Yeah, fair enough," he says. "Can we go up there?" He points to a small cave-like hole eaten into the sandstone cliff. It's not too high, just a few metres above the high tide mark.

"Sure."

We pick our way over the rocks and around the pools then clamber up the side of the cliff. The grooves and ledges worn into the rock over time make it easy.

The wind whistles over the cliff face and the ocean roars below but we're sheltered here in our little cave. It's kind of breathtaking, watching the wave sets surge towards shore, the wind drawing patterns on their surface.

Edward and I sit side by side, talking, then kissing, until he pulls me onto his lap and the view is the furthest thing from my mind.

* * *

><p><em>Steamer = wrist-to-ankle wetsuit. Blue-ringed octopuses are deadly little jerks that hide out in rock pools. They're <em>_camouflaged unless they're pissed off._

_Thanks for the love, guys! Shell x_


	19. Pristine

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Pristine  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 494<p>

* * *

><p>Edward rubs the back of his head, wincing. "So, um, we should talk…"<p>

He takes my hand and shows me the lump forming under his hair. I cringe. I was maybe kissing him a little too enthusiastically, which may have resulted in his head and the rock wall behind us colliding.

"I'm sorry. I got carried away."

When we can, between hockey practice and homework and my mum being, well, _my mum_, Edward and I find our way back to our rock-cave. We're not the only people who use it, judging by the soft drink bottles and ice cream wrappers we sometimes find jammed into its crevices.

Edward chuckles. "I like carried away. But, um, speaking of… We should talk about sex. Before, we're, you know, in the middle of something."

Recently acquired snobbish tendencies aside, my mum has actually given me plenty of good advice and guidance. And when she gave me The Talk, she was blunt. _If you can't talk about sex_, she said, _you're not ready to have it_.

I pull Edward's hand away from his head and link our fingers. "Okay."

His ears turn pink as he tells me, "I haven't… before."

I lick my lips. "I have…"

Edward just nods, his expression unperturbed.

"And, um, I'm on the pill, but I'm not… I'm not ready just yet."

"Okay."

"You, uh, don't mind? Not being my first?"

He takes a moment to think about it, his gaze lost somewhere at sea.

"You're not the moon, or… Antarctica, you know?"

I snicker. "I'm not a barren wasteland?"

"Definitely not." He smiles and squeezes my fingers. "But, I meant– The first person to land in Antarctica or wherever plants a flag and they claim it as theirs, right?"

_What?_ "Uh, sure."

"It's like… Girls aren't territory." His cheeks match his ears now. "You've had sex. But you're still like… _you_. Right?"

I think I see what he's trying to say. Even if he were my first, he'd have no "claim" over me. And maybe I regret sleeping with Jake, but being "not a virgin" hasn't fundamentally changed who I am.

"That's true… But…"

Edward ducks his head to look me in the eye. "But?"

I screw up my face. "It just– It wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience. We broke up pretty much right after."

He brings my hand to his cheek. He didn't shave this morning and it's scratchy under my palm. "That's why you're not ready now? Because of what happened?"

"No." I lean over to touch my lips to his. "I'm not ready because we've only been together for like a month."

Edward weaves his fingers into my hair and I can feel him smiling as he kisses me. He pulls back, just a breath of space between us. "Has it really only been a month?"

"Mmm." Another kiss.

"Bella?" Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

"Yeah?" A longer kiss. Deeper. One that leaves us gasping for air.

"I'm not ready yet either."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading, lovelies! Shell x<em>


	20. Serendipity

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Serendipity  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 495<p>

* * *

><p>By the end of August, winter has started to lose its grip, with the temperatures slipping into the mid-twenties in the middle of the day. It feels like someone hit fast forward somewhere along the line. The hockey season ends after we get knocked out in the semis, and Year 11 is almost over. Before I know it, I'm handing in my last Assessment Task before the Yearlys.<p>

I get 95 percent for that task, an Ancient History essay. I'm stoked—until I have to listen to my mum sniff and ask, "what happened to the other five percent?" She reckons hanging around with "that boy" is making me lazy, so I decide it's time to bite the bullet and take Victoria's advice. Such a strange expression, really. Why would you bite a bullet? Unless it's a liquorice bullet, in which case, yum.

I ask Edward to come over for tea on Friday night and he doesn't even hesitate before agreeing. He says he can't come over until after six, and Mum makes out like that's a huge inconvenience, which is ridiculous because we don't usually eat dinner until after seven.

When I get home from school, Mum makes me tidy my room, then vacuum the living room and set the table. I sneak outside once I'm done, before she can decide the windows need to be cleaned or the bathroom needs to be repainted. I sit on the porch with a book that I'm not really reading, waiting for Edward to arrive.

I'm expecting him to walk or skate here, or maybe get one of his parents to drop him off. What I definitely don't expect is for an old, silver Corolla with red P-plates to pull up out the front just before six o'clock.

_No way!_ I'm on the street before Edward climbs out of the car. He's wearing his sunglasses and a huge smile.

"You got your P's!"

He catches my high five and pulls me into a hug, kissing my nose then my lips.

"I didn't even know you'd booked a test."

He chuckles. "I didn't tell anyone. Just in case."

In case he failed, he means.

"Fair enough." I'll probably do the same thing when I take my test in the next few months. Once I've got my hours up, that is. I still have to log like another 45.

He pulls out his wallet and hands me the little card.

"This is so cool," I say, wriggling it around to make the holographics give up their rainbows. "You can't take a bad picture, can you?"

He laughs at that, and locks his car. "I've been told I'm cute."

"Really? Who said that? She must be super smart."

"The smartest." He swings an arm across my shoulders and a breeze sweeps down the street, catching my hair and tossing it in Edward's face.

It feels like a moment. Him and me, freedom in his pocket and the wind at our backs.

* * *

><p><em>Year 11 only goes for 3 terms in NSW, Year 12 starts in Term 4; Yearlys = yearly exams; liquorice bullet = liquorice coated in chocolate; tea = dinner; red P's = first year of your provisional licence (there are a bunch of restrictions, including a max. speed of 90kmph, only one passenger between 11pm and 5am, etc.).<em>

_Thanks for reading! Shell x_

_P.S. I know this is The Twilight 25, but I reckon this one is going to be more like The Twilight 30-35ish. These two had more to say than I realised. :)_


	21. Shattered

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Shattered  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 499<p>

* * *

><p>Mum makes some ridiculous duck terrine thing for dinner. The joke's on her, though, because Edward is the only one who seems to like it. He demolishes his own serve and then finishes off mine, while she and Dad pick around the edges of their own meals.<p>

"So, Edward." Dad takes a sip of his beer. "That fine piece of Japanese engineering out the front of my house belong to you?"

Edward laughs. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Dad rubs his hands together, feigning glee. "Now you can be Bella's chauffeur and I can have my Saturday arvos back."

"No worries. Happy to drive Jas– Bella anywhere."

Mum hides her grimace behind her wine glass. "Tell me, Edward. What subjects are you taking again?"

"English, Maths." He counts off his units on his fingers. "Physics, Chem., PDHPE, Music. But Music is accelerated, so I'm actually doing HSC stuff this year."

Instead of asking the obvious—What do you play?—Mum moves right on to asking about his plans for uni.

"I don't really know, yet." He scratches his neck. "Maybe mechanical engineering."

"Not going to follow in the old man's footsteps?" Dad asks.

"Nah." He chuckles. "I'm too squeamish."

Mum looks at Dad, eyebrows reaching for her hairline. "You know Edward's father?"

He tilts his head. "Dr. Cullen? Yeah, saw him Tuesday." He winks at Edward. "Tried to convince him to prescribe me a game of golf a week but he gave me bleedin' beta blockers instead."

"You should try being his kid." Edward sighs. "To get a day off school I basically have to be dying of bubonic plague or something."

Mum actually has the nerve to ask why Edward's not at Ted's and I kind of want to throw my glass through the nearest window. I visualise it: the water arcing out of the glass as it sails through the air, the smash, the shattered glass raining down onto the carpet.

"Mum!"

Edward squeezes my knee under the table. "I think when we moved here, Dad expected I would. But Mum was pretty insistent I go to a co-ed school."

"She doesn't think… well, that hormones could be a distraction?"

It would be great if a nice, big, bottomless hole could open up under my chair. Or under Mum's.

"Nah." Edward shrugs but his ears are pink. "She calls boys' schools a 'hotbed of systemic misogyny' or something. She reckons it's important we learn early that girls are just as smart and strong as we are."

"Too right." Dad offers me his knuckles and I roll my eyes but bump his fist anyway.

"I see."

"Like, Bella. She's heaps smarter than me." He leans over and gives my shoulder a squeeze. "And she's way stronger, too."

My mother sips her wine and says nothing, just looks at his hand on me. I slump in my chair, drawing my shoulders in.

Dad comes to my rescue, stacking our plates and getting to his feet. "Why don't you give Edward the grand tour?"

* * *

><p><em>HSC = Higher School Certificate. It determines your ATAR (which then determines what you're eligible to do at uni), and English is the only compulsory subject. <em>

_Thanks for reading. Shell x_


	22. Treasure

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Treasure  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 500<p>

* * *

><p>Edward follows me down the hallway as I point out the various rooms. "Mum's sewing room… Bathroom… Laundry… My room."<p>

"What was that about?"

"What was what about?" I pause, my hand on the doorknob.

"This." He hunches his shoulders in. He must've caught my discomfort at the table.

I bite my lip, torn. I don't want to be_ that_ girl, the girl who looks to someone else to affirm her, who needs her boyfriend's compliments and approval to feel good about herself. But I also want to be honest with him.

Edward takes me by the hand and pulls me into my room. It's unusually tidy, thanks to Mum's pre-dinner fussing. My books are stacked neatly on the floor by my desk, my school bag is on its hook behind the door—I even folded away the mound of clothes that normally lives at the end of my bed.

Edward pushes the door almost-closed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just…" Honesty wins out. He might as well see the insecure side of me now. "I'm a bit self-conscious about how broad my shoulders are."

Edward frowns. He takes a step back to study me, and he does it with such an intense look on his face that I can't help but giggle.

"I…" He shakes his head. "I don't really know what the good boyfriend thing to say is. If I tell you I reckon you're hot, will you believe me? And like, if I tell you that I like the stuff in here," he taps my forehead, "and here," he taps my sternum, "even more than the hotness, will you think I'm just being a wanker?"

Maybe it's the fact that he _doesn't_ know what to say, that he doesn't just feed me a line and expect it to fix everything, that makes me feel a million times better.

"You're a good boyfriend," I tell him.

"Yeah?" He looks chuffed. "You'll keep me then?"

"Definitely." I tuck my hair behind my ears. "I, um… Sorry to get all weird on you. It's just this dumb insecurity—it's still kinda new to me. I'll get over it."

"Pretty sure everyone has them." He bares his teeth like he's a vampire or something. "I didn't want to get braces 'cause I thought my mates'd hassle me. But now I wish I hadn't been such a pussy about it."

"You could still get them," I say.

"I s'pose." His smile becomes a smirk. "But they might get in the way of something I really like doing."

His hands on my waist, he pulls me close. Those butterfly feelings rush back.

"Yeah?" My voice comes out all shaky and breathless. "What's that?"

He lowers his head then pauses, his mouth millimetres from mine. My lips throb like he's already kissing me.

"Eating." He says it too loud, grinning like he's pleased with his own hilariousness.

But his laugh stops short when I grab the front of his jumper and pull his mouth to mine.

* * *

><p><em>jumper = sweater<em>

_Thanks for reading! Shell x_


	23. Tryst

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Tryst  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 500<p>

* * *

><p>Edward and I have our first fight in September. It sucks.<p>

He picks me up on Friday after school, barely looking at me when I get in, and answering all my questions with grunts.

I turn off The J's and fold my hands in my lap. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

Of course. _Nothing_ makes him snappy and uncommunicative.

The traffic is sluggish, the school pick-up merging into the start of peak hour. Try peak three-hours.

Edward swears under his breath as we crawl along behind a Kluger. According to the smiling stick figures on the rear window, it belongs to a family of five and a cat.

"Those stick figure families are dumb." I try to make him smile. "I saw this awesome one of a T-Rex that said something like, 'I ate your stick figure family.'"

He doesn't respond, just sighs as we stop at a red light.

"So, I had a great day. We had this huge discussion in English about the overrepresentation of white, male authors in our reading lists."

Edward shoots through the green light, only to slam his foot on the brake at the next intersection.

"And well, you know what Vic's like, she likes to play devil's advocate, so she sits there with a straight face and says, 'let's face it, men get to experience more of life, so they write more interesting stories,' and oh, man… It got pretty heated for a while."

I might as well be talking to a brick wall. _Oh, hey. I like your mortar. That is some nice mortar_.

"So after that, she got up on the table–"

"Can you just... Just shut up for a minute, okay?"

Tears prickle the corners of my eyes as I look out the window. I fold my arms across my chest and try to hold myself together. Why is he being such a jerk? Everything was fine yesterday. We spoke last night to organise him picking me up. He was happy, nervous but… _Oh._

He had his HSC Music performance today.

He passes the turn-off to my place, heading instead towards the beach. I take that as a positive sign.

He parks out front of the surf club but makes no move to get out of the car.

"I fucked it up."

I listen as he details every mistake and stumble he made in his performances. He drags his hands through his hair and sighs. "Shit."

"That really sucks," I say. "I'm sorry you're stressed about it."

He looks at me, finally. Maybe he hears the edge in my voice.

"And, who knows? Maybe it wasn't as bad as you think. You're probably your own biggest critic."

He nods and lets out a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. And it's too late now, huh? Just gotta work my bum off for the other components."

He offers me half a smile. I don't return it.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

I open the car door. "Don't ever tell me to shut up again."

* * *

><p><em>The J's = Triple J = radio station that plays lots of indie stuff); stick figures = Is that a thing outside Australia? The stickers on the car showing the make-up of your family?<em>

_Thanks for reading and reviewing. You guys are the best! Shell x_


	24. Waffle

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Waffle. (But I didn't use it. I'm very bad.)  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 500<p>

* * *

><p>"Jasmine." He catches up with my easily, his long legs giving him the advantage. "Hey, wait up." His touch on my elbow is a light.<p>

I keep heading across the sand towards the surf. I kick off my shoes and socks, then walk right into the water, not stopping until the whitewash is curling around my knees and the hem of my school dress is wet. The water is cold but with all this anger running hot in my veins, it's kind of refreshing.

Edward follows me in and we stand there, arms folded across our chests, the water soaking our clothes and the wind teasing the ends of our hair.

"I'm sorry."

There are three yachts off the heads, their colourful spinnakers in bloom. I watch them inch along the horizon as Edward apologises.

"I– Nah. There's no excuse. I shouldn't have said that. I was being a dick."

He _was_ being a dick.

"I shouldn't have taken it out on you," he says. "You were the first– the only person I wanted to see, and then I fucking bite your head off. I'm really sorry."

My anger fades like it's evaporating in the sun or leaking into the sea. "Thanks for saying that."

Hands in his pockets, he kicks at the waves.

"I– I'll probably screw up sometimes. With you… with us, I mean. But I'll– I won't tell you to shut up."

I nod. "It's okay to need some time to think and I don't know, process stuff. Just… Tell me that, okay? Give me that respect."

We turn to face each other and I take his hand. "I forgot you had that on today. I'm sorry it didn't go as well as you hoped."

He shrugs and pulls his free hand through his hair. "If I completely bombed, I can do it again next year. If I really want to. Or I guess… I can keep doing PDHPE and hope that mark cancels it out."

When he tugs my hand, I go willingly into his arms. Well, as willingly as I can standing knee deep in the ocean. Edward pulls me into a hug and when he kisses my neck my knees go a little wobbly.

I grab the front of his shirt and pull his lips down to mine and we keep kissing even when a bigger set rolls in and the water is suddenly up to mid-thigh.

I pull back. "Is your phone in your pocket?"

Edward frowns. "Nah. I put it in my shoe." He jerks his head towards the sand.

Hoping he left his keys up there, too, I wrap my arms around him… and then throw myself sideways so we both go tumbling into the water. We come up spluttering with laughter. Edward grins at me and I know that even though we'll probably fight again, we'll be able to work it out.

"Hey," I say, as we make our way back onto dry sand. "Why do you call me Jasmine?"

* * *

><p><em>PDHPE = Personal Development, Health, and Physical Education.<em>

_The school year runs from late Jan to mid-Dec in NSW. Except for Year 11, which finishes up in September, so they can start Year 12 work in October after the spring holidays. I know I've complicated things a little by having Edward do one of his Year 12 subjects in Year 11, but it's reasonably common for kids to accelerate through subjects they're really strong in, so they have less on their plates in Year 12._

_I'm super thankful for all of you, amazing reader people! Shell x_


	25. Worthless

The Twilight Twenty-Five  
>thetwilight25 dot com<br>Prompt: Worthless  
>Main Character: Bella<br>Rating: M  
>Word Count: 496<p>

* * *

><p>I knew her name wasn't Jasmine.<p>

Or at least, if it _was_ Jasmine, it was going to be a bloody lucky guess.

I saw her talking to the redheaded chick with the great laugh. It was her smile that caught my eye. Straight, white teeth outlined with pretty red lips. Dark hair, dark eyes, bikini-string tan lines decorating her shoulders. She looked so happy, chatting and laughing with her friend. All lit up. I wanted in on the fun they were having.

Alec had introduced to me about fifty thousand people in the previous few days, but all the names and faces had melted together like crayons left out in the sun. Some people looked familiar, and certain names came to mind, but extracting the right name for the right face? No chance.

I was sure he hadn't told me her name, though. I would've remembered it, for sure.

Of course, he was nowhere in sight. Probably off with that blonde chick I'd seen him chatting up earlier. Sarah. Or Sally. Susan?

The smiling girl turned away from me, hiding her face, and that's when I knew I had to do something to get her attention. Before she disappeared and I never saw her again.

It was the breeze that did it. The hot summer wind was heavy with the scent of the jasmine that crept along the back fence.

"Hey, Jasmine."

She looked up.

* * *

><p>I didn't learn her name until the next day, when Alec finally rolled out of bed, hungover and swearing he'd never touch another beer.<p>

"Which girl?" He squinted at me, holding a cold can of Coke to his forehead.

"The one with the really great smile."

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Half the girls who were here have great smiles."

_Not like hers._

"She's about this tall–" I held my hand chin height "–and she's heaps tanned. Brown hair, brown eyes. Friends with a chick with bright red hair."

"Ohhh. Gotchya. That's Isabella. She goes by Bella but."

"I called her Jasmine."

Alec killed himself laughing. "Mate… You've got no chance."

"You reckon?"

"She let you call her the wrong name all night and didn't correct you? Clearly not interested."

My heart kind of sank. Like it fully felt like it had dropped out of my chest into my stomach.

Alec punched me in the shoulder. "Aw, look at you, man. All cut up. She give you her number?"

I shook my head, my stomach still churning. "Nah. Maybe you're right. Maybe she wasn't keen."

_So that was that?_ She and her beautiful smile were out of my league.

But I could be a persistent little shit when I felt like it. And she was totally worth persisting with. So I'd give it another shot. She said she was at PLC, so I could probably manage to "run into her" at the station and suss out whether she was really as uninterested as Alec reckoned.

Yeah. That's what I'd do.

* * *

><p><em>This was always going to be ch. 25. But I didn't plan on these two having a bit more story to tell. So we'll keep going...<em>

_Thanks for reading! Shell x_


	26. Jack-o'-Lantern

I'm going to use the witfit prompts until this story is finished. And I'll stick to the 500 word limit because I'm finding it good discipline, trying to be ruthless about which words and details are essential and which aren't.

Prompt: Jack-o'-lantern. Well, that's useful in an Australian fic.  
>Word Count: 495<p>

* * *

><p>Edward's final music exam is on October 31. I don't see him for about a week before he sits it—he keeps his face firmly planted in his books, determined to make up the marks he reckons he lost in the performance component.<p>

But he's at the station when I get off the train after school, holding two cones of gianduja gelato. His shirt is untucked, he's traded his school shoes for Havis, and most importantly, he's grinning.

"Exam went well, then?" I ask, swiping one of the cones. I take a big lick before I tilt my face up for a kiss.

"Oh, I see how it is," he says. "Ice cream before Edward, huh?" But he kisses me, kind of. It's hard when we're both smiling like fools.

I shrug. "I mean, I like kissing you, but you can't compete with the goodness of gianduja."

"It just tastes like nutella," he says, and I shake my head at him as we wander towards the station carpark.

"Well, yeah… it's chocolate and hazelnut. The greatest flavour combination known to mankind."

He opens the car door for me. "And yeah, the exam was fine," he says. "I left forty-five minutes early."

"Nice." I kiss him again, the car door between us, before I get in.

"Do you need to go home?" He starts the car and releases the handbrake.

"Yeah, I need to get changed. But I told Dad I was going out tonight and he said that was fine."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Edward stays in the kitchen, chatting to my mum, while I go to my room to change out of my uniform. I wouldn't say Mum has completely warmed up to him, but she at least tolerates him now. She's still a bit aloof, but not outright rude.<p>

I pull on a singlet and shorts, spray on some more deodorant, and stuff my cosies and towel into a bag, then rejoin them. Edward's telling Mum about his exam—she looks kind of lost. He's being stupidly cute, waving his hands around as he talks, completely oblivious to the fact Mum has no clue what he's talking about.

"Hi, Mum," I accept her cheek-kiss and turn to Edward. "You ready?"

"Yep." He takes his glass to the sink, rinses it, and puts it in the dishwasher.

"Oh." I turn back to Mum. "It's Halloween. There are some lollies in the cupboard in case any kids show up trick or treating."

She sniffs. "Do you know, they were even selling those orange pumpkins in Woolworths last week? It's very different to when I was a child. We didn't even register what date Halloween was, I don't think."

"That's globalisation for you," I say. "The world's shrinking, Mum."

Edward pokes me in the side. "Such a smarty-pants with the big words."

I roll my eyes at him. "Whatever… So. Shall we?"

He grins and offers me his arm like we're a courting couple in an Austen novel. "We shall."

* * *

><p><em>cosies = swimsuit.<em>

_Thanks for reading! Shell x_


	27. Battle

Prompt: Battle  
>Word Count: 497<p>

* * *

><p>Sand sticks to our feet and shins as we walk back to our towels, and Edward hooks a finger into the waistband of my bikini.<p>

"Why do you do that?" he asks.

"Do what?"

"You flinch whenever my hand gets near your bum."

"Really?" I stop, keeping my sandy feet off my towel, and turn to face him. He doesn't unhook his finger, just slides it back and forth under the stretchy fabric.

"I didn't even realise. Maybe because Jake used to pinch my bum all the time and I hated it."

"No bum-pinching, then." His grin slides into a grimace. "Wait. Jake? As in Jake Black? As in…" He pulls his hands away, holding them out past his shoulders to indicate Jake's size.

"Yeah."

"You went out with Jake Black." He shakes his head.

I frown. "Yeah."

"Jasmine…" He picks up his towel and throws it over his shoulders. "He's like… a giant among men."

"I guess."

It's hard to understand him because he's rubbing his towel over his face and hair, but I _think_ he says, "How can I ever measure up?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

He just stands there, looking ridiculously miserable as he wraps his towel around his waist. I know he said he had some insecurities, but this is just… _not_ what I expected. _Boys._

"I mean… I don't think it was anything to write home about. Not that I've seen any others…" I wrinkle my nose. _Why are we even discussing this?_ "And I mean, I _told_ you it wasn't exactly a great experience so–"

"Wait, what?"

"I told you that my first time was pretty awf–"

"Jasmine." His eyes go so, so wide. "Did you– You… Did you think I was worried about his–" he cringes "–dick being bigger than mine?"

"Weren't you?" I am so confused.

"No. God. No." He groans and drops onto the sand, his face in his hands. "How– Oh my, God."

I fold my towel in half and sit down on it. "Um, you… So what exactly were you freaking out about?"

He looks up at me, and his eyes are red around the edges from the salt water. It makes their green so vivid. "He's school captain. He's smart and like, built—he has a fucking eight pack. He's captain of the footy team. He's just so… not like me."

It's kind of tempting to tell Edward he's being an idiot, because a) he is being an idiot, and b) I'm in love with _him_, not Jake. But then I remember how careful he was about my insecurities, so I decide I owe it to him not to laugh in his face.

"Edward." I grab his hand and twist our fingers together, sand rubbing between our skin. "Jake could be the fucking Prime Minister and I wouldn't care."

He snickers, no doubt because our budgie-smuggling PM is scarcely an example of male desirability.

"You know why?"

He shrugs. "No. Why?"

"Because I love _you_."

* * *

><p><em>Budgie Smugglers = speedos. Our Prime Minister is famous for wearing them. Yep<em>_._

_Oh, re: last chapter. Yes, it's almost summer here. Wonderful beach weather. Yesterday I was watching people in North America put trick-or-treating photos on Facebook and complain about it snowing... whilst I sweltered in 36C (97F) heat._

_Cheers! __Shell x_


	28. Impromptu

Prompt: It's Sunday in witfitland, so no prompt.  
>Word Count: 499<p>

* * *

><p>"You love me?"<p>

I can't read the expression on Edward's face and I feel kind of panicky. I itch my calf with the other foot. The sun is scorching, beating down on us; the breeze is non-existent. I'm sweating. I flap my elbows a bit, trying to get the breeze to dry my underarms before I start to stink.

I didn't really mean to say it, but, yeah, I do. I love him. And maybe I'm only seventeen and there's a lot about life I haven't learnt yet, but I do know this. I love Edward with all my seventeen year old heart.

It's just that, well, I meant to say it at a better time. A _bigger_ time. I didn't mean to blurt it out in a conversation in which I thought he was stressing out about the size of his penis.

I drop his hand and wipe my palms on my towel. My shoulders are burning, so is the back on my neck.

"Jasmine, I–"

"Don't." The word shatters in my mouth.

"You, umm… _Oh._" Edward's eyes widen. "Okay." He looks kind of devastated. He turns away from me, looking out towards the surf with his hand shielding his face from the sun.

"Edward." I touch my hand to his cheek and he complies, turning back to me.

"Don't call me Jasmine. Not if… not if you're going to–to say something that matters."

"Oh… Right." He gives me that half-smile and I think I've ruined his moment, too.

"I've ruined this moment, haven't I? It wasn't even the right moment, and then it became one, and then I wrecked it. I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have just blurted it out. I mean, I was saving it up for like, I don't know, a sunset or maybe when we were like, kissing in the rain. Someth–"

Edward cuts off my babbling by pressing his lips to mine. I'm grateful, because I might never have shut up if he didn't make me, and also because I'm always grateful for the opportunity to kiss him. So I just go with it. I lose myself in his lips and tongue and give mine back with all the intensity I can, and I think maybe we're trying to say the same thing, just without words.

I end up on my back, and there's sand everywhere. In my hair, down my swimmers, on my face. There's probably even some in my mouth. Yes, there is. That's when I push on Edward's chest until he pulls back.

"Sand," I say, and I'm so breathless I'm not sure if he understands me.

No, he must, because he hands me his water bottle. I sit up and take a big mouthful. "That's better." I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him back down to me.

He pauses, his lips against mine but not moving. Or not moving in a kiss, anyway, because right there, against my lips he says, "Bella, I love you, too."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you so much for reading, and for all the kind reviews! You're all wonderful. Shell x<em>


	29. going the extra mile

Prompt: going the extra mile  
>Word Count: 500<p>

* * *

><p>"I told him I love him." I don't know why I blush. It's not like I'm embarrassed about it, but I can feel the heat pulsing in my cheeks all the same.<p>

Victoria is lying on my bed, looking at the ceiling. "And he said it back, I'm guessing?" She flinches when I chuck my pen at her.

"Yeah, he did." Part of me wants to give her a blow-by-blow, tell her every single detail of our sandy declarations, but the other part of me wants to keep it to myself. That part wins. I'll save the details for my journal—I want to remember the first "I love you" I believed in.

"And then..?" Vic lifts her head off my pillow and wiggles her eyebrows at me like a creeper. I wish I hadn't thrown my pen at her before, because I'd like to chuck it at her again now.

"And then, nothing. We went for another swim and then we went back to his place and watched movies with his mum."

"Seriously?" She sits up. "I didn't see you all weekend. I assumed you two were fu–"

"Vic!"

"What?"

"No. We haven't. I–I was doing my Chemistry task all weekend."

Victoria looks at me for a long moment and then starts cracking up. She _laughs_ at me.

So I throw my English book at her.

She blocks it with her elbow. "What the hell?" She rubs her forearm, wincing.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Are you– are you pouting, Bella?"

I cover my mouth with my hand. "No." I might have been.

Victoria finds that hilarious, too. "Oh, I see what's going on. Did he… He did. He turned you down, didn't he?"

I keep my hand over my mouth so I don't know if she can understand me when I tell her I don't know what she's talking about.

But she's right. I told him I was ready and he smiled and kissed me and then told me that he was, too, but that didn't mean we had to do it right away.

I was hurt. I mean, what teenaged boy turns down sex, seriously?

My boyfriend, that's who. He says stupid, sweet things like, "I want to let this sink in first," and "I don't want you to think that I just said it because I want to sleep with you, you know?"

I really didn't know. But now, a few days later, maybe I'm kind of glad he pressed pause. Maybe.

Because now that we know we're both ready… oh, my God. The _anticipation_. It's seriously all I can think about. Well, not really, I wrote half an essay for English so clearly my brain works fine when I need it to.

But as soon as I have a moment of quiet? Yeah.

And while I'm telling Vic the truth when I tell her we didn't have sex on Friday night, I'm also leaving some things out, because we did learn the meaning of the word _compromise_.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading, lovelies! You all make me smile so big. Shell x<em>


	30. take it or leave it

Prompt: take it or leave it  
>Word Count: 499<p>

* * *

><p>Summer's here: Perfect blue-sky days. The smell of fish and chips and sunscreen. The tiptoe walk-run over burning asphalt and hot sand. That first post-winter sunburn and the subsequent mad dash down the shops for aloe vera gel. The first southerly buster.<p>

It rolls in about five o'clock on a Friday afternoon, driving away five days of sweltering heat with a fifteen degree temperature drop in less than an hour.

Edward takes a few pictures of the leading edge; the deep purple roll cloud that runs up the coast with the cold air behind it. He lingers in the carpark, talking to a few guys with boards tucked under their arms, their wetsuits hanging from their waists.

I put my feet up on the dashboard of his Corolla and fold my arms across my chest. I know the clouds look pretty spectacular but I'm frustrated and grumpy, and watching Edward point his iPhone at the sky is pissing me off. And like, what can I even do? Bust out an ultimatum? "Sex me up now or it's over?" _Yeah, right_.

I'm seriously considering punching the car horn to get him to hurry up when he pulls open the driver's door and gets in, his hair wild from the southerly winds. He brings with him a burst of fresh, salty air and a sheepish smile.

"So I was thinking," he says.

I bite back a sarcastic remark and wait for him to continue.

"My folks are going away tomorrow morning, and they won't be back until Sunday night."

Now I'm interested.

"You, um…" His cheeks turn pink, which is ridiculously endearing given some of the _compromising_ we've been doing. "You could sleep over… I mean, if you'd like."

"Yeah, maybe." I'm not above winding him up.

I relent when he drops me home, kissing his cheek. "I'll call you in the morning to come get me?"

His smile is full of promises. "Sure."

* * *

><p>I find my mum on the couch in the living room. I want to talk to her about staying at Edward's but I swallow my carefully planned arguments when I see her face.<p>

She's crying. Not like, full on sobbing or anything. Just sitting there watching _Better Homes and Gardens_ with a few tears dribbling down her cheeks.

"You okay?" I flop down beside her and take her hand, twisting her engagement ring around the way I used to when I was little.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just disappointed."

"What happened?"

She wipes her cheeks, careful not to smudge her eyeliner. "It's silly. Just… well, Maggie and Charlotte organised a girls' weekend away. They left this afternoon."

"They didn't ask you to go?"

She shakes her head and, man, I feel so bad for her. _Is this what being a parent is like?_

"I'm sorry."

I let her pull me closer and put her arm across my shoulders.

"I should've… What have I always told you about choosing your friends wisely? I should've taken my own advice."

* * *

><p><em>southerly buster = wind front that comes up the NSW coast, dropping the temperature in a matter of minutes. We get about half a dozen of them every summer, and they're awesome.<em>

_Thanks so much for reading. Shell x_


	31. Impromptu, again

Prompt: Impromptu  
>Word Count: 496<p>

* * *

><p>Mum and I spend Friday night watching the first season of <em>Offspring<em>, bowls of ice cream in our laps. I think my mum's got a thing for Don Hany, although she doesn't seem to really be watching the show, just kind of staring past the television set.

After a few episodes, she hits pause and we go to the kitchen to make cups of tea. Well, tea for her and Milo for me. I can kind of see my weekend going down the gurgler, but I ask her anyway. "Mum, do you want me to stay in this weekend?"

She gives a little laugh. "No, honey. It's sweet of you to offer, but I'm a big girl."

And maybe I'm an idiot, because I ask her if she's sure.

"Yes, I'm sure. Go, have fun with your friends. What've you got planned?"

I blow out a breath. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about it, actually."

For all the dumb, snobbish crap she's been carrying on with this year, my mum is still my mum. And she hears something in my voice that has her attention. "I'm listening."

"So, um, tomorrow." I give myself a mental shake. I can do this. "Edward's parents are away. And I– I was thinking about sleeping over there."

"I see." Mum clearly knows the implications of what I'm asking, because she stirs her sugar into her tea then looks at me, her expression serious. "Do you think that's wise?"

"I don't think it's unwise."

Mum smiles a little at that. "Are you being responsible?"

My cheeks are hot but I'm proud that my voice is steady. "We haven't needed to be, yet."

"Right. _Yet_." She takes a sip of her tea, looking thoughtful. "Look, Bella, it's like this. I think you're too young to be having sex." She holds up a hand when I go to interrupt her.

"Baby, I'm your mother. I'll always think you're too young, okay? But I also know I can't stop you. And frankly, I'd rather you do it somewhere where you can–" I think even she's blushing now "–_enjoy_ it. It's supposed to be enjoyable."

"I know, Mum."

"Have you talked about it together? I presume you're still on the pill, but is he going to buy condoms?"

I nod. He already has them.

Mum puts down her mug and pulls me into a hug. We've been the same height since I was fourteen, but it still feels strange, being eye-to-eye.

"You're growing up too fast," she says.

It doesn't escape me that she doesn't actually give me her blessing. And I mean, how can she? _Yes, Bella, you should definitely sleep with your boyfriend._ Instead, she's leaving that decision to me.

We pick up our mugs and move back to the couch.

"Bella?"

"Yeah."

"I– My priorities got a bit mixed up this year. And I might've lost sight of what's really important—_who's_ really important. And I'm really sorry about that."

* * *

><p><em>Milo = chocolate and malt drink, can be drunk hot or cold.<em>

_Thanks for reading. Shell x_


	32. Cocoon

Prompt: Cocoon  
>Word Count: 495<p>

* * *

><p>So, I'm grounded. Indefinitely.<p>

Because the thing is, just because you have a mum who knows you've had sex before and that you'll have it again, and who'd rather you do it somewhere warm and dry, and not like, in a car or on a beach somewhere, that doesn't mean your boyfriend's parents are necessarily as permissive.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, even though I'm on the pill because of my monthly cramps-from-hell, we never considered _not_ using condoms. Every Sex Ed. lesson we've sat through since Year 6 has hammered the need to be responsible into our skulls. I remember in Year 9 PDHPE, Mr. Hunter saying, "Fellas, if you can't walk into the supermarket to buy condoms, you're not man enough to be having sex."

And those self-service checkouts in Woolies make it pretty easy. Edward didn't even do what I do when I buy tampons—scan them in super quick between a packet of musk sticks and a bottle of Diet Coke.

On Saturday morning he picked me up about eleven, because hey, I might've been keen to have sex, but I also like to sleep in. He suggested we go get a milkshake down at the surf club kiosk, but I wasn't interested.

Because there was lots of kissing and touching to do.

We took turns undressing each other, taking away one piece of clothing at a time. Which, I mean, it's summer, so that didn't take long. And despite all our compromising, it was the first time we'd been completely naked together, so there was that moment where we both were hiding certain bits behind our hands and his ears were bright red and my lip was stinging from how hard I was biting it.

But Edward did that thing he does where he looks me right in the eye and he smiles, and it felt so right that it was easy to drop my hands and get back to the kissing and touching.

We were like explorers, charting the coastlines of strange new lands. And though we're put together similarly and made from the same stuff, there were so many differences to discover. We took our time, searching them all out, until we got lost in pants and gasps and please don't stop.

We didn't stop.

And it was awkward and it hurt a tiny bit and it was over pretty quickly but I didn't mind so much because as I looked up at Edward at _that_ moment, as he fell, lips parted like he was shocked, like he couldn't believe anything could feel so good, it was still kind of perfect.

We cleaned up and then cocooned ourselves in his bed, and where any piece of me touched a part of him there was nothing at all between us and that felt pretty special, too.

We fell asleep like that, the sun pooling on the sheets and our skin.

Neither of us heard Edward's phone ringing.

* * *

><p><em>It blows me away, how sweet you all are with your reading and reviewing and general awesomeness. Thank you. Shell x<em>


	33. Swell

Prompt: Swell  
>Word Count: 498<p>

* * *

><p>Had one of us heard his phone ringing, we would've known that Edward's parents' car had died, and that they were waiting for the NRMA. Had we heard it ring an hour later, we would've known they were getting it towed to a mechanic, and had decided to catch the train home.<p>

But we didn't hear it. The first time, we were asleep. The second time, well, we were exploring again.

I woke up to Edward trailing his fingers across my tummy, pressing kisses to my shoulder. Probably the best way to wake up, ever.

I was pretty enthusiastic about picking up where we'd left off, practice making perfect and all that, but he had other ideas. He kissed me crazy first. Lips, hands, sensation everywhere. I had that chest-heaving, gaspy thing going on by the time he pulled back and not quite meeting my eyes, asked me if he could kiss me a bit… lower.

I chewed on my lip for a bit, but then agreed he could try, if he really wanted to. I was kind of hoping it wouldn't be a tit-for-tat thing, if you know what I mean, but then I knew Edward wasn't the type to huff and guilt me into doing something I wasn't heaps keen on.

So he tried. And it almost felt good, but I just couldn't relax completely. I'd start to lose myself in the feel of what he was doing with his fingers and tongue, but then I'd start to stress out about it. I mean, didn't he find it kind of gross? And then I'd talk myself down—he wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't like the idea, and also, his body wasn't exactly hiding how much he liked the idea.

"Edward… Can you… Can you come up here?"

He was a bit disappointed when I told him it wasn't working for me, and I think I bruised his ego a bit, which sucked, because it totally wasn't him, it was just me not being able to switch my stupid brain off.

He laughed, though, when I asked him to go brush his teeth before he kissed me, so I think he realised it was just me being a weirdo, and not him totally sucking at it.

By the time we reduced the number of condoms in his box by two more—I thought I might've ripped one with a fingernail so we binned that one—he was looking pretty content. And I told him we could try the other stuff again some other time.

"I just need to get used to the idea, I think," I told him.

We hopped in the shower together after that, which was fun. Wet Edward is pretty bloody sexy, if I'm being honest.

And it was pretty lucky, actually, that we both put our undies back on after our shower. Being caught in his bed by his parents was bad enough. Had I been naked at the time, I might've died dead.

* * *

><p><em>NRMA = roadside assistance.<em>

_1000 reviews? You guys are so good to me. Thank you, thank you! Shell x_


	34. Faint

Prompt: Faint  
>Word Count: 496<p>

* * *

><p>We got woken up by Mrs. Cullen. "Edward. Bella. Get up and come down stairs." I'd never heard her angry voice before and it was pretty terrifying.<p>

She slammed the door, left us to pull on our clothes and exchange nervous glances.

My heart was banging away like crazy and I felt a bit faint, but Edward caught my hand before I opened his door.

"I– I love you, Bella." He gave me a small smile that was loaded with worry. "And um, I'm sorry about this." He pointed at the floor, indicating whatever awaited us down there.

I squeezed his hand. "Whatever they say, Edward… I don't regret this, like, at all."

It was late afternoon by then, the sun still burning fiercely and heating the house. Or maybe my nerves were making me flush. The air-conditioner rumbled away in the living room as Edward and I walked, sweaty hand in sweaty hand, into the kitchen.

Dr. and Mrs. Cullen were pretty upset. And I mean, there was no point telling them we were "just" sleeping, because we're seventeen and even if that had been true they probably wouldn't have believed it.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Edward," Mrs. Cullen said. "You know how this looks, don't you?"

Edward mumbled an apology, while I tried to figure out what it looked like. Besides the obvious.

Apparently, Mrs. Cullen figured Edward had taken advantage of me; that he'd _let_ us get carried away—or worse, pressured me into something I wasn't ready for.

I maybe should've kept my mouth shut, but what she was saying about Edward really upset me, so I told her she was making some pretty sexist assumptions. I told her that I appreciated her desire to raise her son to respect women and understand that no always means no, but that she was actually undermining my agency (shout out to Dr. Greene for teaching us that word). So yeah, I basically told her that I'd wanted her son to sex me up, and possibly may have let slip that my mum knew, too.

Mrs. Cullen sighed and put her head in her hands, and I almost felt bad for her, because raising teenagers and realising that they're growing up and you can't stop it must be kind of terrifying.

"I'm still going to have to call your parents, Bella. You understand why?"

"Yeah." I didn't reckon we'd done anything wrong with the sex-having, but the Cullens had a "no girls when we're away" rule that Edward and I had knowingly broken.

Consequently, I'm grounded. Though Mum's made it very clear (to Dad, too) that I'm not grounded for having sex.

"You're the only person who has a say in whether you do that," she told me. "But you led me to believe that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen understood you two would be alone together. You lied to me, and you broke Edward's parents' trust. That's why you're grounded."

I suppose I deserve that.

* * *

><p><em>I am seriously so grateful to everyone who's reading and reviewing this silliness. Thank you. Shell x<em>


	35. None

Prompt: none  
>Word Count: 499<p>

* * *

><p>Edward calls me on Sunday morning, the day after our little (mis)adventure, and I rouse on him for waking me up. He laughs, but it sounds strained.<p>

"What's up?" I ask. I'm still in bed, and I yawn, watching spears of light lick the ceiling.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine." I stretch and yawn again. "Well, I'm annoyed that I'm not going to get to see you for a while, but other than that."

"You're not–" He sighs, then pushes the words out in a hurry. "You're not upset with me?"

"With you?" I'm confused. "No. Of course not."

He's quiet for a bit, but when he speaks again, I think I can figure out what's bothering him. "Will you ever tell me why you and Jake broke up?"

"I told you that it wasn't a particularly nice experience."

"Not nice, how? Like… not nice, he hurt you? Not nice, he pressured you?"

I finger the cotton of my doona cover. "Edward… I'll tell you about it if you can promise me you understand this: I loved every moment of yesterday. Loved it. At least, until your folks got home."

He takes a moment to answer. "Okay."

"Seriously," I tell him. "It was amazing, okay?"

"I got it."

"With Jake…" It's hard to put this into words. "He used the whole _If you really love me you'll sleep with me_ thing. But not… I mean, he would've stopped if I told him to. And, um, yes, it did hurt, but it was my first time and he was a bit rough."

"Rough?" His voice has a dangerous edge to it.

"Not violent rough. Just like… he'd watched too much porn rough. He, um, he thought that's the way girls liked it." I shrug, forgetting Edward can't see me. "He said some pretty gross things to me, too, because he thought it was sexy or something."

I wish we weren't having this conversation over the phone.

"He, um, called me a dirty slut and said some other dumb stuff like that. Like I said, he'd watched heaps of porn and thought it would be a turn on."

I keep talking because Edward's silence is stressing me out. "And I mean, if I'd just told him I found it offensive, then maybe it would've been different. But the truth is I probably wasn't ready and I ended up feeling… _used_, I guess? And I just… that, plus the stuff he'd said… I decided to just end it."

Edward is quiet for so long I have to ask him if he's still there.

"I'm here," he says. "Yesterday…"

"Yesterday was amazing," I say, and I hope he can hear in my voice exactly how much I mean it. "You made me feel really, really good, and not just like, physically. You made me feel loved. Like I was really special to you."

"You are really special to me, Jasmine."

"Well, good," I say. "Because you're heaps special to me, too."

* * *

><p><em>to rouse on someone is to tell them off, affectionately (it's pronounced with a "ss" sound); doona = duvet, comforter.<em>

_You're all amazing. Shell x_


	36. hit the ground running

Prompt: hit the ground running  
>Word Count: 595. I do what I want.<p>

* * *

><p>My grounding gets lifted after two weeks, with the condition there be no further sleepovers at Edward's. And he's not allowed to come to my house if my parents aren't home.<p>

We're seventeen, though, and I've just discovered how awesome sex can be when you're doing it with the guy you really love. Obviously, we're going to find ways to get around those rules.

And the summer holidays are just about to start, so we're looking down the barrel of six weeks of sun, sand, saltwater, and… other things that start with 'S.' Okay, five weeks, because Edward's family are going back out west for a week around Christmas.

The day after my grounding is over, I'm working on a practice paper for Physics. My window is wide open as the sky takes on this weird, greenish tinge and the grey-black clouds start to roll in. There's a black nor'easter brewing and I can almost smell the electricity in the air. It's there, lingering behind the scent of imminent rain—metallic, carbonic, hard to describe but immediately recognisable.

The wind grabs hold of my curtains and starts whipping them around. Lightning jags in the distance.

And it's kind of cool, because it's in the middle of this that I have my own thunderbolt of inspiration moment.

My parents and teachers have been on my case about my getting my uni preferences in, and I've just figured out what I'm going to do.

I'm going to be a teacher. I'll apply to do a combined B.A./B. Ed. at UNSW. I'm going to major in English, and do a minor in Women's and Gender Studies. The UAC Handbook says I'll need an ATAR of around 82, which is way lower than what I'm aiming for, but so what?

Because this is what I'm going to do.

I'm going to be like Dr. Greene, who encourages young people to think, to make their own choices, to live what they believe in.

I'm going to be like Mrs. Cullen, who asks people how they're going to change the world, and believes they can do it, too.

I'm going to be like my mum, who can apologise when she's screwed up. I'm going to be supportive and straight-talking and capable of change, just like her.

I'm going to be like my dad, who doesn't sweat the small stuff.

I'm going to be like Victoria, who loves to think and learn and wrestle with big ideas. I'm going to be a great friend, just like she is.

I'm going to be like Edward, who took a chance on a girl whose name he didn't know. I'm going to love as deeply and laugh as much as he does.

And it might sound like there'll be no room left in there for _me_, but I don't think people have a fixed volume. We don't ever reach capacity.

So I'm going to try to emulate all the best parts of the people I love. And I'm going to have other parts that are all my own.

I'm going to make mistakes and learn from them. I'm going ask questions and keep searching until I find the answers. I'll take a stand on something and maybe twenty years later realise my views have changed. I'm going to chase my dreams and maybe some will slip through my fingers, so I'll have to find some new ones. But maybe some of those dreams, I'll chase them down until I catch them and I'll hold onto them with everything I've got.

I can't wait.

* * *

><p><em>UAC = University Admissions Centre; ATAR= Australian Tertiary Admissions Rank (It's not a score, it's a rank. An ATAR of 82 means you're in the top 18% of candidates in your cohort). <em>

_Lovely friends, thanks so much for going on this little journey with me. I've had fun with these characters, and your reviews and support have knocked my socks off. Thank you. Shell x_


	37. Epilogue 1

_These are for Capricorn 75, because she asked and I couldn't wait until January. Hope you're feeling okay, Cappy! I think there will be like 4 or 5 of them._

* * *

><p><strong>Also Known As: The Epilogues<strong>_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue 1.<em>

* * *

><p>Turns out, I don't actually hate beer. Emmett and his old man opened a microbrewery on the Northern Beaches just after we finished school, and they offered me a gig tending bar. As a result, I discovered that my problem was not with beer—it was with shitty beer. Like Alec's bloody VB.<p>

It's a pretty cool job. They let me set my hours around my uni timetable, and I get to wear board shorts to work. If it weren't for WHS codes, I'd probably wear thongs, too. The Brewery's philosophy is lazy Sunday arvos, sand between your toes, and cracking a cold one open with the taste of the surf still on your skin. Timber floors the colour of sand, sea blue leather, laidback music: It's the kind of place I'm happy to hang out in even when I'm not getting paid.

Tonight, I knock off at eleven, pour myself a schooner of the Dark Red Ale Emmett's been working on, and snag a stool on the other side of the bar.

"Where's mine?" A pretty brunette steals my beer, swallows half of it in one go, then offers me her cheek. I kiss it and pull her between my knees.

"Hey, you."

My Jasmine looks tired. She spent the afternoon at a friend's place, working on a group assignment for one of her classes, and then she was rostered on for the dinner shift at the Thai restaurant across the street from The Brewery.

Her hair's damp, though, and she doesn't smell like the Thai basil she likes to chew while she's working, so I figure she must've gone home to have a shower before coming in. That's a good sign—if she wanted to have an early night she wouldn't have bothered going home first.

"Good night? Pretty busy in here."

"Yep. Been like this since about four o'clock this arvo."

She finishes my beer off, then catches Emmett's eye and holds up two fingers.

He pulls two bottles from the fridge and pops the lids. "This just got bottled Friday," he says. "Let us know what you think."

Before we can even take a sip, his attention is claimed by a trio of blondes in brightly coloured sundresses, similar to the one Bella is wearing.

My girl leans against me as she brings her beer to her lips.

"You okay, babe?"

She nods. "Just a long day. I wanna have some fun." She winks at me and I groan softly. Anticipating, not complaining.

Because "fun" with this girl could mean skinny-dipping at Freshy at two in the morning, then climbing up to our cave to wait for the sun to rise. Or it could mean catching a cab into the city so we can walk across the Bridge because she wanted to feel the breeze from up there, or maybe it could mean going on what she calls a "gelato crawl" through Surry Hills and Darlinghurst.

We've been together for three years now, and things are going pretty spectacularly. I mean, yeah, we fight sometimes. Who doesn't? But mostly, it's a blast just being with her. She's my best friend, as well as my girlfriend, and even when she's dragging me through the Cross at three o'clock in the morning, I'm almost always smiling. I'd probably follow her anywhere.

Sure, she has some annoying habits—just dumb stuff really. Like, when she stays over at my flat, she insists we wash the dishes by hand. Which, seriously? That's the whole point of having a dishwasher. But she calls it a "bonding experience," which is code for her picking a topic to debate, then twisting everything I say until I have no idea what my point was in the first place.

She has some strange insecurities, too, but so do I. She hates her shoulders; I don't like my teeth. She worries about the wobble of her thighs and bum and stresses out about wearing a bikini to a crowded beach. I see the ripped dudes checking her out in her bikini and wish I had a six pack and massive biceps—until I realise that would require joining a gym or some shit.

And she's still a deadset weirdo about me going down on her. I've tried to push her on it a couple of times over the years, assuring her I'm not at all grossed out by it, and that she's being unnecessarily neurotic. Last time, though, the discussion ended with her stamping her foot and yelling, "it's a mucous membrane, Edward!" I don't force the issue now. It's not like it's a deal breaker.

"What did you have in mind?" I take a pull of my own beer. It's the Black IPA, which I was dubious about, but it's actually pretty bloody good.

Bella shrugs, picking at the label on her beer bottle. "I'll think of something."

I chuckle. "Let me know."

* * *

><p><em>thongs = flip-flops; schooner = 425mL (in NSW, anyway); arvo = afternoon.<em>

_Thanks for reading, friends. Shell x_


	38. Epilogue 2

_Epilogue 2._

* * *

><p>I'm on my third beer when I notice the girl scowling at me from across the room. Short dark hair, colourful tattoos crawling across her shoulders… It takes me a second to place her, just because the context throws me—I've never seen her off campus.<p>

Alice is doing mechatronic engineering and we had a few classes together in first year. I still bump into her in the library every now and then, and just last week she was all smiles while she waited for me to finish using one of the photocopiers. Which makes the whole shooting-daggers-from-her-eyes thing a bit weird. I look around, just to make sure, but no, she's definitely aiming them at me.

I look away, finish my beer. Bella asks me if I want another and when I say "sure," she says, "Good, get me one, too," and tells me to order some chips as well.

She disappears to the ladies' room and I wave Em over. While he's pulling a few more beers out from his secret stash of stuff he's either working on or scoping out, I chance a quick glance at Alice.

Still frowning. Weird.

Bella comes back and before she climbs back onto her stool, she kisses me. Really kisses me, her tongue sliding against mine and her fingers gripping my shoulders and I'm about a minute away from forgetting we're in a really public place when she pulls away. She gives me a smile and pats me on the cheek.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."

She shrugs. "I missed you."

Behind her, Alice is now looking murderous. I'm thinking I might have to go ask her what the hell her beef with me is, when she comes stomping over. She grabs Bella's arm and stands on her tiptoes to whisper in Bella's ear.

Bella frowns, but nods and starts to get up. "Back in a sec," she tells me.

I tap my fingers on the bar, keeping time with John Butler Trio's _Zebra_, while I wait.

Alice leads Bella over into a corner where she appears to be telling her off about something. Alice jabs her own upper arm a few times, then she actually wags her finger in Bella's face, like she's rousing on a toddler. She then jabs that finger in my direction. What the hell is this girl's caper?

Bella's listening with this strange expression on her face, and then, just as I'm about to go over and demand an explanation, she throws her head back and starts laughing.

Alice looks even more pissed, which I didn't think was possible, and she waves for some guy to come join them. He's blond, tanned, looks like a typical surf rat, and I'm pretty sure I don't know him. He says something to Bella, who's still laughing, and she shakes her head.

_Nah, this is bullshit_. I'm trying to get Emmett's attention, to tell him to watch our food, when Bella comes back, Alice and the dude in tow. Bella's still grinning, which is kind of comforting, and Alice and the dude just look confused.

"What's going on?"

Bella tries to keep a straight face as she introduces me. "You know Alice, right? This is her boyfriend, Jasper. Jasper, this is Edward."

We shake and I totally act like a grown-up and don't even try to squash his hand.

I direct my question to Bella. "How do you know each other?"

"Jasper's in my Language and Literacy class. We did a presentation together earlier in the semester."

"Right." I remember her talking about that one. She ended up doing most of the work—partly because he kept cancelling study dates on her, and partly because she's just a perfectionist.

"Anyway." Her smile is cheeky. "They think you're cheating with me."

I just blink at her, because the words don't make sense. "I'm…" I look from Alice to Jasper. "What the _fuck_–"

"Babe." Bella puts her hand over my mouth. "_With_. Not on."

I don't even know what she's saying. I can't think straight. I look at Bella, and she's still smiling, so I trust in that. "Explain, please."

She takes my hand and slides her fingers between mine. "So, you ran into Alice last week, right?"

"Yeah. In the computer lab."

Alice folds her arms across her chest. I ignore her.

"And did you maybe talk about this?" Bella traces her fingertip over the star jasmine vines wrapped around my bicep. Only a few licks of ink are visible, sneaking out from under the sleeve of my T-shirt.

I nod. I tell her that Alice had asked me where I got it done.

"And did she maybe ask what it means?"

"Yeah." I frown at Alice. "I told her they were for my _girlfriend_."

Bella sighs and squints up at me. She takes pity on me and explains. "Babe, you told her you got _jasmine_ because your girlfriend is called Jasmine."

Oh.

_Oh._

It's my turn to crack up.

Bella turns to Alice, who is looking completely frustrated. "I get that you were concerned," she says. "But Edward calls _me_ Jasmine. He has for years."

Alice raises her eyebrows. She looks sceptical. "You're Jasmine."

Bella leans against me and I kiss her shoulder. She smells soapy and clean—it's quite distracting.

"Yeah," she says. "It's kind of a long story."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! Shell x<em>


	39. Epilogue 3

_Epilogue 3._

* * *

><p>Jasper and Alice don't stick around once they realise a) there was no need for them to rescue Bella from my cheating arms, and b) Bella's not at all inclined to tell them the story about why I call her Jasmine. They actually seem pretty embarrassed as they force smiles and "see you laters," then leave The Brewery. I feel bad—they were just trying to be good friends.<p>

"That was weird," I say, watching them disappearing through the front doors.

"Totally." Bella leans her head on my shoulder. "I'm not surprised but. Jasper always struck me as a stickybeak."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. He's the kind of guy that's always trying to read your texts over your shoulder, you know?"

"They were just looking out for you, _Jasmine_."

Bella grimaces. "I know. I just don't like them implying shit like that about my completely wonderful, not to mention very sexy, boyfriend."

I roll my eyes at her and grab a few chips from the plate Emmett dumps in front of us. I realise they're piping hot only after I've shoved them in my mouth, and I have to flap my hands around in front of my face to avoid spitting them all over the bar. I grab my beer and take a mouthful before I've even finished swallowing the potato.

Bella laughs at me. She's mean like that. "You're all red," she says. Then she smiles. "I think I said that to you the night we met."

"You did." I try to smile at the memory but my mouth is still on fire. After I take a few more mouthfuls of beer, I run my tongue over the roof of my mouth. "I've burnt the roof of my mouth."

"Sucks." She signals to Rose, who's just started her shift, for some cold water because she's actually not that mean.

"How's your tongue?" She waits until I have a mouthful of ice water to say this, and I widen my eyes but keep drinking. "I'll be needing that later."

Bella takes the glass from me, takes a sip, then puts it on the bar. I pick it back up and slip a cardboard coaster underneath it out of habit.

"You need my tongue, huh?" I make a slightly obscene gesture and Bella screws up her nose.

"I meant for kissing, Edward."

I grin and wiggle my eyebrows. "So did I."

New Navy's _Heaven_ starts to play as Bella grimaces and shakes her head. "Let's not do this…"

I pull her to stand between my knees. "I'm just messing with you."

She relaxes against me, playing with the hem of my shirt. She speaks to the floor. "I'm sorry I'm such a weirdo."

"I'm not." I kiss her hair. "I kind of like you just the way you are."

With her head pressed against my chest, I feel her cheek lift with her smile. "I kind of like you, too."

* * *

><p>It's almost one in the morning by the time we head out of The Brewery and into the November night. We try to pay Emmett for our beers and food but he just waves us away, telling us we're hurting his feelings.<p>

"Oh, and Rose wants you mob to come 'round for dinner sometime next week," he says.

"Maybe the week after?" I say to Rose, who's appeared at his side. "I'll be finished exams by then."

"Sure." Rose squeezes Bella's hand. "Are we still on for Thursay?"

Bella nods. "Yeah. And Vic will be finished exams on Tuesday so she's keen, too."

"Awesome. See youse."

Bella and I step out onto the footpath. The air is heavy and humid, thick with the scents of Thai food, the ocean, fried potato, and the garlic sauce they use at the kebab shop. The murmur of the sea is just audible, a constant rumble beneath the music and laughter spilling out onto the street from the bustling restaurants and bars that line the strip.

"Sucks to be you," Bella says. "What's an exam, again?"

"Pfft. I'd rather sit an exam than do one of those group presentations of yours." I wrap an arm around her waist and gently steer her away from the road. She's swaying slightly—not drunk, but definitely tipsy.

She wrinkles her nose. "Ugh. You're _so_ right. Remind me why I decided to do an arts degree?"

"Because," I pull her close and kiss her temple, "you'll be an awesome teacher."

"Awwww. You're so nice." She lurches away from me and heads towards the pedestrian crossing. "I wanna go to the beach."

* * *

><p><em>stickybeak = nosy person, busybody; chips = fries; yes, lots of Australians end sentences with "but;" youse = our equivalent of "y'all" (but don't ever tell my mum I used it, even in writing; she'd probably wash my mouth out with soap). <em>

_Thanks for reading! Shell x_


	40. Epilogue 4

_Epilogue 4._

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><p>The beach is virtually deserted. In the moonlight, the sand looks grey and the ocean, black. Ripples of light move across the surface of the sea, racing towards the shore and then shattering in the foamy shallows.<p>

There are a few people, mostly couples, sitting up on the dry sand, kissing or deep in conversation. Bella, however, makes straight for the water's edge. I have to jog to keep up with her.

She pulls her dress up and tucks the hem into the sides of her undies, which sets my heart racing—for all the wrong reasons.

"Hey." I grab her hand and spin her to look at me. "You can't go swimming."

She's had too much to drink, and even for a swimmer as strong as Bella, mixing alcohol and the ocean is the height of stupidity.

"Silly, Edward." She spins herself under my arm, like we're dancing, then pulls away. "No drinking and diving." She giggles.

"Funny."

"Plus, there's a rip just out there."

I look where she's pointing. It takes me a moment to see the deceptively smooth swathe of water. I breathe out, relieved. Bella knows the ocean's treachery far better than I do, though it scares her less, having grown up on its shores. For me, it's still too unpredictable, too untrustworthy.

Bella walks into the whitewash but stops where it reaches her knees. She waves for me to join her. I wade in after her, slowly, because the sandy bottom here is notoriously _not_ flat. And somehow, it's always me that falls into one of the random trenches gouged by the surf.

Tonight, I'm in luck.

Hand on her hip, Bella turns to me. "And, by the way, as if I'd go swimming in this." She tugs on the flower-print fabric that covers her belly.

I shake my head, but I'm smiling. She has a point. If she wanted to swim, she'd have taken her dress off, rather than tucking it up out of the way. She's not wearing her cosies, but that's never stopped her before.

I take her hand and we start walking towards the southern end of the beach. A stiffening breeze kicks up the spray, tossing it at our backs, dampening our skin, hair, and clothes.

We've almost reached the rock platform when Bella speaks. "So, I was thinking…"

"Uh-oh. Look out."

She flips me off with her free hand. "Bite me."

"Mmm, later."

She huffs. "Are you gonna let me finish?"

"Sorry."

"So, as I was saying, I was thinking… about us."

She looks over at me, her lip between her teeth. The joke I'm about to make evaporates and I wait for her to continue.

"The lease on your flat is up next month, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. Like the 15th, I think."

"Are you going to renew it again?"

"I guess… I haven't really spoken to Em about it." I stop walking. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking of moving out of my parents' place, and I… Well, I was kind of wondering how you'd feel about us moving in together?"

"Are you still drunk?"

Bella's face falls and I feel like shit, realising how that must've sounded. She turns away, but I catch her around the waist and tug her back to me. Neither of us are paying attention to the surf and as I'm about to speak, a wave rolls in, catching me at hip height. We both stumble, but stay on our feet.

My hands on Bella's hips, I grip the soaking wet fabric of her dress. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant like… If I say 'fuck yes, I want to live with you'—because that's totally what I'm going to do—are you still going to want this in the morning?"

"It's already morning." She steps closer, wraps her arms around me.

"Jasmine…"

I feel her body tense and I know what she's going to do. Before she can pull me headlong into the surf, I sweep her up into my arms and stride out of the water.

When I set her on the dry sand, she looks up at me, all smiles and shining eyes. "Yes," she says. "I'll still want this in the morning."

* * *

><p><em>Okay, I'm really done now.<em>

_Thanks again for all the support. I've really appreciated it. Shell x_


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